






























0 



copyright deposit 




































































































* 



















DILLINGHAM’S AMERICAN AUTHORS LIBRARY, No. 34. 


Moultrie DeKalb, 

APR 9 1898 j) 

A ROMANCE 




OF 


A COLLEGE REBELLION, AND ARMY 
AND MERCANTILE LIFE 

* ii 

ON THE 

INDIAN BORDER. 


/ 

By THOMAS J. SPENCER, A. M. 


NEW YORK: 

COPYRIGHT, 18*7, BY 

G. W, Dillingham Co., Publishers. 

MDCCCXCVIII. 

\All right S' reserved. \ 

TWO COPIES RECEIVED 




50 U 

& 

So /*j. 


PREFACE, 


The swords of our soldiers carved 

THE FIRST PATHWAY THROUGH THE 

Rocky Mountains and united, 

UNDER ONE FLAG, 

THE 

Atlantic and Pacific slopes. 


Thos. J, Spencer . 



CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER __ PAGE 

I. — Trouble — Ominous — Impending . 9 

II. — The Greek-Letter Clans on the 

War-path . . .24 

III. — The College Rebellion Advances 

Apace . . . .37 

IV. — Bertha Poinsett, Moultrie’s Sweet- 

heart, and her Friend . . 54 

V. — The Flight of Moultrie De Kalb . 59 

VI. — Moultrie Rescued from Quantrell. 77 

VII. — Quantrell Foiled. In the Hands 

of the “ Mystic Crewe ” . . 91 

VIII. — Moultrie a Ranchman and Mer- 
chant in Colorado . .9 7 

IX. — The Indians Attack the Wagon 

Train .... 105 

X. — A Night of Terror . . .116 

XI. — Rescued After a Three Days’ 

Siege . . . .121 

XII. — Westward Ho! Again! . . 136 

XIII. — Moultrie, Grown Rich, Extends 

His Business . . . 140 

XIV. — Moultrie in the Role of Protector 147 

XV. — Moultrie’s Model Traveling Outfit 156 

XVI. — A Snug Camp and Stormy Night . 161 

XVII. — At Last with Troops . . 167 

XVIII. — Fatty Forbush Savage on Army 

Officers . . . *174 

[vii] 


CONTENTS. 


viii 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. — Amid New Scenes, Hercules Un- 
expectedly Appears . .183 

XX. — Some of Moultrie’s New Ac- 
quaintances . . . 192 

XXI. — The Garrison Hop . . . 200 

XXII.— The Officers’ Club— Fatty’s Mis- 
take. Hercules Rescues Moul- 
trie .... 205 
XXIII. — That Model Traveling Carriage . 214 

XXIV. — An Abortive Picnic . .219 

XXV.— The Bachelor Officers’ Hop ; the 
Indian Raid ; Moultrie Home- 
ward Bound . . . 229 

XXVI. — Hercules in Hot but Fruitless Pur- 
suit of the Indians . . 24 2 

XXVII. — Hercules Succumbs, the Victim 

of Malice and Cunning . . 249 

XXVIII. — Bertha at the Theatre Excites Un- 
disguised Admiration . . 255 

XXIX.— How Cheval Won His Bride . 262 

XXX. — Oh! Loving is a Rapturous Thrill 267 

XXXI. — The Chief Wedding Gift, and the 

Bridal Tour . . . 272 

XXXII. — How the Indian Captives were 

Ransomed . . . 276 

XXXIII. — Bertha Learns How Her Father 

Was Murdered . . . 279 

XXXIV. — Bertha Meets the Mother of Mrs. 

P'orster’s Adopted Child . 288 

XXXV. — The Garrison, February 22d — 

Gallant Phil. Sheridan There . 290 
XXXVI. — The Aristocracy of the Plains . 292 
XXXVII. — Magnificent Scenery, with Night 
Wolf Battle — Terrible Prairie 
Fire .... 296 
XXXVIII. — Fatty Financially in the Swim 

Marries Miss Swimm . . 304 

XXXIX. — The Fate of Gabbler and Blondin, 

and the Fortune of Hercules . 309 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER I. 

TROUBLE — OMINOUS— IMPENDING. 

In the branches — seemingly — of the honored, 
ancient elm in front of the spacious, student’s board- 
ing house, on University street, was an odd place 
for an owl to perch and hoot dismally. 

And the musical after “Taps ’’notes of a whip- 
poorwill issuing from the open window of a second 
floor front, as if in response, was also strange. Yet 
to those not of the Achates clan of the Cedar Crest 
College secret societies, those unusual midnight 
sounds seemed to be the veritable utterances of the 
birds named. 

In the big, rambling building, window after win- 
dow was raised, some noisily, some noiselessly, and 
soft signal whistles issued from each. Then every 
sash was lowered, lights extinguished, and in a few 
minutes Fatty Forbush, waiting at the base of the 
big elm, was joined by a dozen fellow students, 
arrayed in grotesque and differing dominoes and 
disguises. 

One, who was at once received as a person of 
authority, wore a woman’s dress skirt, a shawl, sun- 
bonnet, and a red and black pasteboard false face of 
an ass with a goat's beard. 


[91 


10 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


A deep bass voice, and a formidable hickory club 
with a carved owl’s head for a handle, might have 
proclaimed her a witch, or an amazon. 

In obedience to a command, in Latin, from this 
person, three of the keenest eyed students took post. 
One went down, one up, and the third across the 
street, and stationed themselves, closely concealed 
under cover, as sentinels. 

A low cat-call announced no eavesdroppers nor 
spies in windows nor on the street. 

Then the “ Committee of the Conclave,” those 
under the big elm, conferred in low, confidential 
tones. 

The old negress who passed, on the way from her 
sick mistress to the doctor, rushed on at first and 
then paused, half paralyzed. 

Later on she said to the old physician : 

“ Fore de Lawd, doctor, I seed em ! Dey is bug- 
glars, tramps and furriners suah ! Go koch em !” 

But the good old doctor was a college trustee, 
suspected only students’ pranks, and was too tired 
and sleepy to venture out and investigate. 

“ What did you hear them say ?” he asked. 

“ I was so skeered I stopt a leetle fust, and I seed 
dey was in a ring roun ‘ de big elm, shakin’ hands all 
aroun’. An’ de fat one he say — berry solemcholy 
like — he say ‘ Ebery one be a Argus , watch wid eyes 
front, rear, bof side and top ob his head ! Watch 
Quantil like a hawk, and perteck Apollo Moultrie ! 
Be sure nuf, an very sure each a ginuine Briareus , 
and pertect him with yer hundred arms !’ 

“ And den he say : ‘ Make no mistake ! Koch no 

one yer doant want ! Be alert ; walk de wise path ! 
de virgin saphead.’ ” 

Fatty had said “ walk in the wise path, via sapien- 
tioB ” (the way of wisdom). 

So tense had been the attention of Dinah these 
words had burned themselves into her memory. 
For reasons, later on explained, the excited students 


TROUBLE — OMINOUS — IMPENDING. 


II 


wefe calling the professors “ Asses ” and “ traitors ’’ — 
and worse. 

These denunciations were hot-headed, unthinking 
and— well, it was all a mistake, of course ; a most 
lamentable mistake, for which each and every 
“ classic ” and “ scientific,” plodding his way through 
the curriculum of dear old Cedar-Crest, deeply 
deplored, later on, as subsequent disclosures will 
amply testify. 

Nevertheless they continued to be uttered — the 
denunciations — and were multiplied, and grew 
deeper, more open and defiant and louder. 

“ Detur Digniori ” (Let it be given the more 
worthy), the cherished school motto, was no longer 
proudly quoted. 

And some unknown recalcitrant, or some secret 
society committee or appointee, through malice or 
mischief, had turned inward to the wall the famous 
college banner, hung conspicuously over the chapel 
pulpit, upon which was emblazoned that motto, in 
letters of gold upon a field of celestial blue spangled 
with crystal stars. 

The deplorable immediate, and ultimate beneficial 
results that fructified from all this are described 
further on. 

Professor Cheval was thirty-five years old, just six 
feet tall and, although slender, muscular. His long 
limbs and arms would not suggest that fact save to a 
close, expert observer. He was, daily, at the college 
gymnasium, enthusing the students and, seemingly, 
enlisting his whole heart into the feats and exercises, 
but, really, doing more than anyone else in regulat- 
ing and moderating the, ofttimes, too violent 
exertions of super-ambitious boys for athletic fame. 

He was closely observant of everything, while, to 
the casual looker-on he was, in semblance, indifferent 
and, merely “a boy himself again,” heartily enjoy- 
ing and applauding the sports and contests, the skill 
and endurance and conquests he witnessed. Plain 
in attire, though with tailor-cut and well-fitting 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 2 

clothes, there was an indefinable something about 
him, that made you turn, and look a second time, 
whenever he passed you by. 

His eyes were deep set, and somewhat close 
together. But this would escape you during his 
tranquil moods, for when excited, their near juxta- 
position seemed to emphasize that concentrated 
gaze, that never dropped nor wavered until it had 
subdued all opposition. 

His hair was somewhat long, not of the frontier 
cowboy, nor the Mississippi planter length, however, 
and his Napoleonic moustache and long, gracefully 
tapering beard, lent him a military appearance which 
was dissipated, however, whenever, in his magnetic 
manner, he pointed an admonition with a “ pat ” 
proverb or an “ ungrammatic” with — what our 
learned British cousins call — “ a beastly Latin 
solecism. n 

At such times he revealed himself as a “ man of 
letters,” and a scholar, as much born to rule in his 
own realm, as military proficients in generalship are 
in theirs. 

His heart and soul and every endeavor was 
enlisted in the problem, “ how to perfect a sound 
mind in a sound body.” And to evolve the solution 
was the paramount ambition of his life. 

While he encouraged physical prowess, he couched 
his praise thereof in phrases that incited to love for 
scholastic eminence, prompted to more studious 
habits in study hours, and larger general, intellectual 
effort. 

He especially believed more in education than he 
did in instruction. 

His face was remarkably mobile. Swift as a 
flash it would change, with kaleidoscopic vividness, 
from a courtly to a ludicrous, comical, angry or 
sneering, or even a bland, vacant or inquiring expres- 
sion. He was a “ natural born ” actor and elocu- 
tionist, and he was professor of elocution at Cedar- 
Crest College. When a boy his health was under- 


trouble — ominous — impending. 13 

mined by hard study. His family physician, a 
kind-hearted, brusque graduate of the war in his 
profession, and who loved him dearly, had thoroughly 
diagnosed his case and, in loud-mouthed, peremptory, 
practical directions, had commanded him to close his 
books, pack up and get ready to rough it on the 
plains, with an overland ox-train. 

No wonder young Cheval was dismayed at this 
order. It was a change, indeed, from his quiet, 
student life, amid the luxuries of a cosy, well 
appointed home, to that of a “ Bull-whacker ” or, at 
least, to that in which his immediate associates would 
be Bull-whackers. To leave, for an indefinite period, 
his loved authors, his chosen volumes in his father’s 
ample library, the historic pictures and classical 
statuary and busts, the antique vases and urns and 
his beloved mother, with her motley but choice 
array of bric-a-brac and old china, to become the 
everyday companion of bellowing bulls, huge freight 
wagons, and boisterous, profane teamsters seemed 
too awful for anything. However, go he must. 

He had implicit faith in his kind but gruff old 
physician and implicitly he would obey him. So his 
little medicine chest was prepared, all other neces- 
sities provided, and he started, sleeping, on his tour, 
for weeks on the ground, in the open air, through all 
kinds of clement and inclement weather, sometimes 
with the shelter of a tent and, much of the time 
without any shelter whatever, exposed, now to heat, 
dust and blistering sunshine, and anon to rain, mud 
and bitter cold. And all this, instead of killing him, 
proved the salvation of his health. 

Buffalo, at this period, peopled the, seemingly, 
boundless plains, immense seas of shoreless grass, in 
countless herds, east of the “ Rockies.” They were 
at once, food, shelter, raiment and illuminating ma- 
terial for the nomadic Indians, whose home was 
always on their trail. 

Freight, not sent by sea all the way around Cape 
Horn on vessels and steamships, reached the Pacific 


Moultrie de kalb. 


H 

slope, the famed land of gigantic trees, gold-veined 
earth and luscious, brobdignagian-sized fruit, by 
transit in huge “ bull trains/’ that stretched for 
miles, in long, thread-like lines, en route to their des- 
tination. 

These ponderous wagons loomed up like immense 
wheeled arks on the treeless expanse of grass, and 
were styled “ Prairie Schooners.” Each had a ca- 
pacity of several tons and, when loaded, required from 
twenty to forty yoke of oxen to draw it. 

A trip across the continent, in those days, took 
weeks by the fastest stage transportation, and 
months by means of these wagon trains. 

On going into camp the wagons were usually cor- 
ralled, the enclosure being spheroid shaped for pro- 
tection against Indians. And inside the enclosure 
thus formed, the teamsters and other trainmen 
usually bivouacked. 

Herders, in reliefs, were told off, much like mili- 
tary guards are mounted, and the cattle, under their 
charge, were turned loose on the grass to graze. 

This was the kind of life led by Cheval for six 
months. And from it he returned home, bronzed, 
brawny, and cured of his pulmonary and bronchial 
disorder. 


***** 

Professor Cheval was closeted with Rev. Dr. War- 
ing, the President of Cedar-Crest College. They 
were discussing charges lodged by Si Quantrell 
against certain, so-called, riotous students. Quan- 
trell headed a delegation of his henchmen from 
among the citizens of Cedar-Crest. Moultrie De 
Kalb, a student, was cited as the principal offender. 
There had long existed a feud between Moultrie’s 
father and Quantrell, and the latter had mustered 
his present following, hoping, by such formidable 
showing, to compel an investigation by the college 
authorities and the dismissal of Moultrie. Securing 


TROUBLE— OMINOUS — IMPENDING. 1 5 

that result he proposed thereafter to have the young 
man indicted as a criminal. 

The culprit was guilty, not of malicious trespass, 
which was the charge made by Quantrell, but of 
leadership in a practical joke that had involved con- 
siderable damage to property in the village. Un- 
fortunately, he had incurred the hearty dislike of 
the Professor of Classics — a florid, stoutish man of 
full habit, irritable, exacting and choleric. 

His dislike, however, for young Moultrie, was not 
openly manifest, but slumbered like a smouldering 
fire, ready to break forth into a fierce blaze on the 
appearance of the first provocative breeze, for Moul- 
trie, knowing the general unpopularity of the pro- 
fessor with the students, was the only one among 
them who, without any real malice, had the audacity 
to go too far in caricaturing him. 

And yet the professor was really a truly good 
man, and amiable enough when not unduly pro- 
voked. He was extremely sensitive to ridicule, 
morbidly so. And although generally ready to for- 
give an open, unjust attack, he never would condone 
a sally of wit that exposed him to laughter. And 
the ill-guarded, unthinking, incisive and transparent 
assaults by Moultrie, in that line, he well knew of. 
Hence his implacable hostility toward him. Moul- 
trie, not having confined his tongue, was liable to 
have his tongue confine himself. 

To make matters worse, Moultrie was totally ig- 
norant of this hostility, while, on the other hand, he 
enjoyed vastly the laughter and numerous comments, 
inside the college halls and in town, elicited by his 
ridiculous sallies in the class-room, and, of late, had 
grown worse than ever. 

Utterly overlooking the increased critical manner 
and now illy-suppressed rage of the professor, wait- 
ing to pounce savagely on him as soon as, in his 
judgment, he could make the offense of sufficient 
gravity to demand, before the Faculty, his expul- 
sion. 


1 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Only the Tuesday before, Moultrie had greatly 
exasperated him. 

They were parsing a Latin sentence and the adjec- 
tive “ felix ” fell to the young culprit. 

“Felix is a noun,” he hurriedly said, “proper, be- 
cause the name of a person, masculine gender, singu- 
lar number, and ” 

“Come, come, come!” broke in the professor 
angrily, doubly incensed at detecting a mischievous 
wink from Moultrie to another merry-visaged class- 
mate. 

Quick as thought the young man responded. 

‘ Cum ’ is a verb, sir, but I don’t see it ! “ Please 

have the sentence read, I have lost it and cannot 
give the connection.” 

The scene that followed, first the giggle and then 
the roar of the class, the exasperation of the profes- 
sor and the pretended mystification of the offender 
— in the set phrase of all portrayers of indescribable 
things, “ can be better imagined than described.” 

“ I cannot believe anyone else sees it !” exclaimed 
the professor, hotly. “ The English come is not the 
Latin cum ! You have made a mistake, sir !” 

“ Excuse me ; so I have. As big a mistake as 
that mantel manufacturer made about your heating 
apparatus.” 

“ How’s that, sir? What has that to do with your 
stupid error ?” 

“ Why he made a grate mistake and I also made a 
great one.” 

Amid a roar of laughter the professor shouted, 

“ Class is dismissed !” 

Of course a report of the occurrence, magnified 
and distorted, spread, like wild-fire, thoughout the 
college halls and from there to the town. And 
several persons, some only mischievously inclined, 
and others malevolently, because they hated the pro- 
fessor, simply because he was a learned gentleman , 
concocted further annoyance for him. 

From behind fences, and from unseen crannies 


TROUBLE — OMINOUS — IMPENDING. 1 7 

and from other vantage points, while homeward 
bound, he was yelled at : “ Hello, Felix /” Hi thar, 
come, come, come ! All uttered in his own peculiar, 
sing-song tone. 

Some of the more brazen and cowardly — prin- 
cipally of the alley-bred breed, who despised “ col- 
lege men an larnin ,” openly reiterated these covert 
insults, directly to his face. And he could not, as 
openly, resent, save at the risk of jeers from his tor- 
mentors — so far beneath him socially — nor could he 
risk it out of self-respect. 

It was insulting, unbearable. And he felt it, and 
showed he felt it. Had Schuyler Cheval been in 
his shoes he would have sailed serenely through the 
whole business, indifferent to or heartily enjoying it. 
And thus would have made their vulgar shafts harm- 
less or “ turned the laugh on the teasing rabble.” 

Happily, at this juncture, a tall, stalwart man, 
clad in Catholic clericals, grasped the nervous, be- 
wildered professor by the hand. His smile and 
greeting were charming, enthusing, assuring, 
strengthening. 

He had at once the face, mien and stature of a 
Leo and the manner of a lamb. He bore the air of a 
man born to win, either by command, persuasion or 
supplication, yet born to win. And benevolence 
beamed from every feature of his face and pose. 

The professor and he had been boyhood play- 
mates. And each, in his own drift, had watched 
and loved and respected the other. 

The priest had carried a musket during the war, 
from 1861 to 1865, and afterward studied for and 
accepted orders. 

“ Let us walk together, I am going to the post- 
office,” he said to the professor. 

And arm in arm they proceeded in that direction. 

There was no more jeering at the little professor 
after that. Whether it ceased through respect for 
the tall, commanding, soldierly looking-priest, or for 
what cause, did not clearly appear, but it ceased. 


i8 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Both men were ordained clergymen, for the pro- 
fessor was a Methodist preacher. 

And this opportune meeting cemented forever the 
old, boyhood friendship that had found birth years 
agone. And many happy hours ensued during which, 
in the cosy little library of the professor, the two 
mildly reveled in early reminiscences and discussions 
of Sanscrit, Greek and Latin literature. And shortly 
after this, both professor and priest took up their 
own respective lines of life and disappeared abruptly 
from the scenes and drift of our story. 

But none wHo witnessed it will ever forget that 
abiding friendship of the “ Papist ” and “ Protestant.” 

On the Thursday appointed Moultrie entered the 
class-room, sedately. Under his arm was his Viri 
Romce and a formidable roll of foolscap. 

This “ roll ” was his “ original Latin composition 
in ten lines ” the professor had ordered. 

So much paper for so small an affair seemed 
ominous. And every student present knew there 
was some sort of further fun in store. But all re- 
mained orderly though nervously expectant. 

Hurrying through the recitation the professor 
called, “ Mr. De Kalb, your exercise now, please.” 

Moultrie rose, solemnly, and deliberately opened 
his “ roll.” Than he brushed up his forelock to re- 
semble the professor’s, cleared his throat in the man- 
ner of that gentlemen, and commenced reading, in 
imitation of the professor’s intoning manner, but 
purposely mispronounced words frequently, thereby 
causing delays until, by the time six pages had been 
read, the recitation hour had nearly expired. 

The professor then, apparently for the first time, 
discovered the mass of supposed manuscript, and ex- 
claimed with some acerbity: 

“ If the remainder of your exercise, sir, is no bet- 
ter than what we have heard, it is just as well we 
have no more time to waste on it ; you can leave it 
with me for examination.” 

Now this was just what Moultrie did not want to 


TROUBLE — OMINOUS — IMPENDING. 


19 


do. But he had overleaped himself and was in for 
it. He placed the manuscript on the professor’s 
desk, and that gentleman, to his amazement, dis- 
covering that only one line was written on each 
page, directed him to remain after the class was dis- 
missed. 

That very night Moultrie was a prime mover in a 
charivari to a newly married post-graduate, in which 
an old cannon, fired in a narrow street, shattered 
all the window-glass in the vicinity. 

When I say he was the prime mover, I mean that 
he was a leading instigator, but, in justice, it must be 
said he protested loudly against resort to the artil- 
lery, when tin-pans, trumpets, cow-bells, shrill 
whistles, and other noisy things, had failed the sere- 
nades in their object, and advised retreat. 

He had been identified, however, and, although 
Si Quantrell had pierced several other disguises, 
Moultrie’s was the only case he cared to work up at 
that stage. 

The president of the college was an elderly gentle- 
man, with strong prejudices, and an irascible temper, 
which he had brought under admirable subjection by 
the exercise of a strong will. 

Few men in fact have ever attained that excellent 
control of themselves he had reached. 

He had been assailed, for years, by vicious oppo- 
nents, and of late had been more hounded than ever, 
by which I mean that, for four decades of struggle 
to elevate the human race to a higher plane, social, 
moral and intellectual, he had been opposed, mis- 
judged and thwarted on all sides, latterly more so 
than in previous years. 

And now he was harassed with a multiplicity of 
anxieties. 

Antagonisms among the faculty, differences be- 
tween the students and towns-people, the college 
debt, and various complications that threatened to 
kill the favorable prospect for an expected endow- 
ment, together with recent family affliction and 


20 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


straitened financial circumstances of his own ; all 
these combined to worry the noble old man, whose 
conscientiousness and innate kindly impulses, brought 
him only that sympathy which is an empty mockery, 
because it pities without relieving. 

If some millionaire, whose shekels had piled up on 
his hands, in spite of the numerous princely benevo- 
lences he had bestowed, had stepped in and laid 
down a small hillock of plethoric gold-bags for the 
college, or had donated a quire or two of govern- 
ment bonds, much of the load might have been 
lifted from the oppressed heart of the dear old gen- 
leman, leaving only the worry and grief of a personal 
nature to afflict him, and which nothing could have 
entirely assuaged. 

But the last good “ Magi ” seemed dead, and 
benevolent millionaires “ passed by on the other 
side.” 

How to thwart this very manifest malice of 
Quantrell, aimed at Moultrie, and yet do his duty, 
was what, on this Saturday morning, grievously per- 
plexed him, and, relying much on the excellent 
common sense of Professor Cheval, he had called him 
in for confidential consultation, before taking any 
official action in the case. 

There is always more or less jealousy and antag- 
onism between towns-people and collegians in all 
college towns, and very serious differences were at 
fever heat in Cedar-Crest at this particular time. 
Differences fomented, largely, by Quantrell. 

Of all the college faculty it was generally conceded 
Professor Cheval had the most friends and admirers 
among the villagers. 

His quiet jokes, his unassuming dignity, and his 
open detestation of all phases of sham had made 
him very popular, in spite of his indifference to 
popularity. 

The President of the college believed Cheval more 
valuable, in an effort to patch up a peace, than the 
entire balance of the corps of teachers, combined, 


TROUBLE— OMINOUS— IMPENDING. 


21 


himself included. But now, when he was flattering 
himself that that was about to be accomplished, this 
lamentable, disgraceful and destructive charivari had 
come to overwhelm him. 

Moultrie was, of all the students, his chosen fav- 
orite. And Cheval’s also. 

Because both knew there was no real malice in the 
boy. 

“ It is very unfortunate, very, all this affair,” said 
the President. “ It has served to widen the already 
lamentable breach and will, I fear, greatly compli- 
cate matters. It depresses me more than I can tell.” 
Then, realizing his own utter impecuniosity he -ad- 
ded, vehemently, 

“ I would have given a hundred dollars, poor as I 
am, and heavily in debt, if it had not happened ! 
Oh, if I could only have prevented it ! Dear me ; 
dear me ; it is too bad, too bad /” 

“What had Quantrell to say?” asked Cheval, 
eying the President closely, for an instant, then 
judicially. 

“ Oh, well, he is after Moultrie, I can see that ! 
To disgrace him is all he cares for, now, at least. I 
am afraid it will not end with our conclusion so far 
as Moultrie is concerned. We must save him ! 
What can we do ?” 

Looking at Cheval as if asking “ What ?” 

Neither spoke again for a full minute. 

“ Some terrible retribution will surely overtake 
Quantrell!” Cheval finally remarked. 

He had seated himself and held a book open on 
his lap. He did not know it was upside down. 

When he said “ that man ” or “ that woman,” 
however carelessly, he always expressed the con- 
tempt in which he held the party spoken of. 

The words were a true barometer of his feelings 
toward the person referred to. 

“ I always think of a boy’s mother,” replied the 
president, “ when an affair like this comes to pass. 


22 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Women feel disgrace so keenly, and moreover, Mrs. 
De Kalb dotes on Moultrie.” 

“ I know Quantrell intends to use the investiga- 
tion of the faculty as a stepping stone to criminal 
action before the courts,” said Cheval. 

“ I shall insist therefore that our proceedings be 
with closed doors. 

“ Unusual as it may seem we have a precedent, 
and I, for one, do not propose to give that man a 
chance to make capital, for his personal malice, off 
our deliberations, at the sacrifice of any one, much 
less Moultrie.” 

The use of the Christian name, by the professor, in 
speaking to, or of persons, was always indicative of a 
more than ordinary personal regard for such person 
or persons. 

Here again were his words a true index of his 
feelings. 

“ Injudicious publicity and condemnation of of- 
fenses committed in thoughtlessness — especially in 
the case of young people — often leads to seriously 
bad results,” remarked the president. 

“ I have known of punishment of that sort pro- 
ducing effects directly the opposite of what was 
sought ; especially in the case of young persons. 
People can be inured to shame as well as any species 
of hardship, for shame is hardship, and for that rea- 
son, in all cases of mischief resulting from mere ex- 
uberance of animal spirits, I certainly do not approve 
of harsh public correction. 

“ When the offense is the outgrowth of a mali- 
cious disposition that needs prompt curbing — or ab- 
solute eradication — if that is possible, the case is 
entirely different. 

“ I tell you, however, that unreasonable correction 
has done more to deprave the human race than any- 
thing else ; unwise restrictions in youth possibly ex- 
cepted. Suppose we should resolve on a public 
investigation Damaging facts would surely come 
to light, facts not at all criminal, but which, in the 


TROUBLE— OMINOUS — IMPENDING. 23 

present state of feeling, a jury of towns-people would 
most likely construe as such/’ 

“ Moultrie would be indicted and sent to prison. 
Of course he would be cruelly humiliated, but would 
it benefit him or any one ? 

“ The usual cant about ‘ The majesty of the law 
must be vindicated/ and all that sort of stuff, in the 
matter of criminal procedure, to punish the wild colt 
pranks of a young student overflowing with animal 
exuberance, is the sheerest nonsense. 

“ As to the damages wrought at the charivari, I re- 
ceived this morning an anonymous note, asking that 
a member of the faculty ascertain accurately the 
same, in full, and announce it, in detail, in the 
chapel, whereupon, the writer assures me, cash to 
cover the same will be placed in my hands. The 
writer further disclaims any intention by the partici- 
pants, in the outset, to do more than treat a former 
student to a lively, ‘Chinese serenade.’ 

“ Now Cheval,” continued the president, “if there 
had been any of that malicious spirit dominating, 
that Mr. Quantrell charges, this note would never 
have been sent me. The handwriting is either most 
skillfully disguised or some outsider wrote it. It 
does not resemble the script of any student now on 
the college rolls. Read it and see if you can fix who 
is the author.” 

Cheval took the note, scrutinized it closely, for 
some little time, and then laughed immoderately. 

The president joined him, out of sympathy, per- 
haps, because, otherwise, he could not have told 
“ for the life of him ” why he laughed, also. 

“ Wha — wha — what do you discover ?” he asked. 

“ Why the manuscript is, apparently, understand 
me — apparently — masculine for a certainty, See 
how bold and defiant and, forgive the coinage — how 
* honesty-assertive ’ it looks ; but, to my mind, it is 
undoubtedly of purely feminine construction. 
Some sweet girl ally wrote it.” 

After some further discussion of the incidents of 


24 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


the charivari Cheval withdrew and walked rapidly 
to his rooms in Druid Hall. 

He was painfully aware of the state of feeling ex- 
isting among the students, faculty, trustees and vil- 
lagers. And he also read in the excited faces or 
averted looks of many of the young men that some- 
thing unusual was brewing. 

He scented mischief hatching of no ordinary char- 
acter or proportions, and thought he saw encourage- 
ment, if not actual participation in it, foreshadowed 
in the demeanor of the graduating class. 

And he set himself resolutely to work to find out 
what it could be. 

On arrival at his rooms he found several students 
awaiting him. He greeted them cordially and then, 
in a shrewd but off-hand, seemingly careless, indiffer- 
ent manner, proceeded to glean such inkling as he 
could. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE GREEK-LETTER CLANS ON THE WARPATH. 

To quietly unearth and export from Cedar-Crest, 
and forever embargo therefrom the prime and most 
potent factors in the cause and continuance of these 
frictions and outbursts, was Cheval’s secret deter- 
mination. 

And he neither had nor would admit any ally nor 
confidant. 

And there is little doubt that if “ such a consumma- 
tion so devoutly desired ” could be achieved, he was 
the only man to accomplish it. 

On this particular Saturday morning, he arrived 
most unexpectedly at the nature and value of the 
principal unknown quantity of his self-imposed 
problem. 

And he resolved to pursue it to the finish. 


the} gre:ek-letter clans on the WAR-PATH. 2$ 

it would have bothered a much shrewder body of 
then than the faculty of Cedar-Crest College, at that 
time, to hide from the ken of the secret societies of 
that temple of learning any move, portending, im- 
pending, or actually resolved on against one of its 
members. 

Cheval had been correct in his hypothesis when he 
suggested to Dr. Waring — the college president, 
that the masculine handwriting of the anonymous 
note the doctor had received was of feminine con- 
struction, no matter who was the builder of the 
phraseology. And the secret societies did have allies 
at the “Young Ladies’ Seminary.” 

At this particular period in their history, those 
societies boasted an astonishing array of budding 
and embryonic talent. Among their numbers, were 
a future Cabinet officer, two coming U. S. and three 
State Senators, five members of the lower House of 
Congress, a Territorial delegate, two Governors, and 
an honest Indian agent. Half a dozen front-rank jour- 
nalists and numerous successful lawyers, divines and 
capitalists. To his amazement, Professor Cheval 
found that his guests knew all about the singling 
out of Moultrie De Kalb for prosecution by Quan- 
trell. He had believed it a profound secret between 
himself, that worthy, and his immediate confeder- 
ates and the college president. 

The president had, in fact, enjoined Quantrell not 
to divulge the lodging of his complaint against the 
young man to any one. [His real motive was to 
prevent worry by Moultrie’s mother, who had a 
morbid sensitiveness that magnified everything that 
threatened ill.] “ If he hears of it he may take 
fright and go away, and, of course, you understand, 
that would end all proceedings in his case, for we 
would have no power to recall him,” the president 
had said. And such a move would have robbed 
Quantrell of his anticipated “ sweet morsel ” — re- 
venge — also. 


26 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


“ Oh no ! Not for worlds would I say anything !” 
he had replied. 

And he had not said anything, except to his 
orphan daughter. 

Now, there was a Young Ladies’ Seminary in 
Cedar-Crest, situated at the extreme further end of 
the town from the college, and, what the col- 
legians called the “ Giddy-iddy,” “ harem-scarem ” 
element among the girls there, were all members 
honorary of one or another of the college secret 
societies. 

Some of them were looked upon, by the students, 
as spies, and were never given any serious confidences, 
however much they may have thought they were. 
But they entered their citadel, so to speak, — the cita- 
del of the secret societies — all unconsciously with 
eyes blind-folded, through a covered way, and de- 
parted in the same manner, never seeing the lay of 
a salient, never learning the strength of a redan or 
flank defense, never discovering an abatis and never 
learning a “ single speck ” about the staked pitfalls 
and superficially buried environment of terrible tor- 
pedoes, and the great, big guns, loaded to the muzzle 
with grape and canister, that constituted their invul- 
nerable fortress. 

No indeed! the boys never “gave away” their 
strong points to these “ suspects.” These pert dam- 
sels were not smart enough for those smart stu- 
dents. 

In other words, the little would-be, or suspected 
would-be, traitresses, never imagined the shrewdness 
of the brainy youths, who knew them thoroughly, 
but never told what they knew, nor told what they 
intended to do, but wormed out of them — dear 
sweet girls — as expertly as a veteran gunner worms 
a danger cartridge or shell out of a carelessly loaded 
cannon— everything they knew that was or threat- 
ened to be a danger or menace to any of their 
number. 

But nevertheless, there were some true loyalists to 


THE GREEIC-LETTER CLANS ON THE WAR-PATH. 2/ 


the secret societies among these same honorary 
members, who “ stuck to the boys like a brother ” 
“ for better or for worse,” as a wife should to a hus- 
band, but which some wives do not. 

And Mattie Amelia Ouantrell was one of these* 
She “ hated ” Moultrie — she said — and thought he 
Was “ altogether too thick ” with that Southern girl 
— Bertha Poinsett, who was “ much too much 
stuck up.” 

But she did dote on “ Fatty ” Forbush, with his 
rotund body and bullet-shaped head and jolly dis- 
position and devilment. 

And to him she forthwith went and, as Fatty him- 
self expressed it, 

“ Clean gave the old boss away.” 

Cheval’s callers had been purposely picked out, 
after considerable weighings of pro’s and con’s on his 
part. 

They were not leaders among the students, not 
originators in any sense, but more valuable for the 
professor’s purposes than brighter fellows would 
have been. 

It is doubtful if he would have succeeded in what 
he sought if any one of them had, in any contin- 
gency, been compelled to assume the functions of 
leadership of one of the secret cabals plotting any 
frolic or big piece of mischief, in defiance of the 
faculty. 

“ He is not built that way.” 

Cheval had said disappointedly of one of them, 
later on, to whom he had entrusted certain work 
that required the exercise of discretion. 

But in minor executive capacities, under able 
direction, for the full and faithful discharge of the 
schemes and plans of brilliant leadership, these boys 
were just the metal with the true ring that Cheval 
wanted. 

He realized how valuable to good order and the 
best interests of the college would be their secession 
from the secret societies. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


5 


o 

o 


Matters were just then going so badly that, Some- 
times, he half believed there must be some outside, 
organized and well-concerted hostility by skillful and 
unseen enemies of the school, that pulled the strings 
that instigated and fostered the mischief-making 
then rampant among the students, making of these 
students mere puppets, but fixing on them all re- 
sponsibility for their covert acts, so that they dare 
not recede nor betray their hidden accomplices. 

Cheval’s discerning eye had noted that these 
youths he had called to his study, could be led, and 
he had called them there as part of his deep-thought 
scheme to divert them from their seriously mis- 
chievous, and disaster-fraught tendencies into better 
paths. Profitable paths. 

Without their being aware of the fact, he very 
adroitly gleaned from them all they knew of mis- 
chief past and mischief brewing. 

“ I’m afraid it will go hard with Moultrie,” he 
said. 

“ We — I should say the societies, will make it hot, 
however, for anyone that harms him !” spoke a 
bold little fellow with peachy cheeks and brown eyes 
and beautiful features. 

Cheval merely raised his eyebrc ^s an instant 
and smiled. 

“ Old Quantrell better look out !” exclaimed a 
sixteen year old little sorrel-top — one of the bosses 
at the gymnasium — he was styled. 

He was quite an acrobat, attended all the circuses, 
side-shows included — that came to town, and, in his 
geometry, always called a transit a transom. 

“We’ve made a diagnosis and cooked up a dose 
for just such a case, and we’ve got all the details 
down fine, to surgery, if necessary,” said a very 
decided, but quiet-faced, slender fellow with keen 
small, blue eyes, and thin, closely compressed lips. 
He was the youth to whom Cheval, later on, con- 
fided the task of leadership and afterward dolefully 
said, “ He wasn’t built that way.” 


THE GREEK-LETTER CLANS ON THE WAR-PATH. 2Q 

Jl Who are we ?*’ the professor asked, addressing 
the last speaker, after contemplating him search- 
ingly, awhile, and accompanying the question with 
one of those irresistible smiles that made him so 
winning with all the students, as well as with every 
one else. 

“ The affiliated secret societies ! They are we /” 
all the boys responded in a chorus. 

“ We have found every one and everything com- 
bining against and trying to whip us in detail,” 
spoke the closely compressed lips of the boy with 
the keen blue eyes. 

“ So all the societies have formed a union and 
we’ll make it hot, devilish hot ! for all such truck 
as Quantrell, if they don’t hands off !” 

“ ‘ United we stand and divided we fall,’ is our 
motto. It’s an ancient chestnut, of course, but 
there ain’t any worms in it, and there ain’t any flies 
on us ! Let those who would like to harm Cedar- 
Crest College, or any of its representatives, put that 
in their pipes and smoke it,” he added, vehemently. 

“ You promised me you would stop using slang, 
Fred,” said the professor, reproachfully. 

“ I did promise — to try" was the response, “ but” 
— desperatelyfr<-“ somehow it will slip out and I 
get there when I don’t think.” 

“ Oh he’s not half so bad as he was!” cried bright 
eyes, coming to the rescue. 

“ Well don’t ‘ let up ’ on your endeavor and you’ll 
soon conquer,” added Cheval, with a merry twinkle. 

And then he joined the boys in the laugh his own 
use of slang provoked, and they parted, as before 
stated, with mutual warm expressions of regard and 
hearty good-byes. 

“ So so !” muttered Cheval, under his breath, after 
they had gone. 

“ Here then is the unknown quantity, the real 
potent, greatest factor in all this sum of outrageous 
mischief. 




30 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


“ Yes, the ‘ Union ’ of the societies is the back-bone 
of the whole business ! 

“ It must be broken !” 

And forthwith he laid his plans to break it. 

And he hit on the right means to reach his pur- 
posed end. He was at once a human sleuth-hound 
unleashed and fairly on the trail — minus the sav^ 
agery. 

This meeting, just recorded of a little coterie of 
bright youths at his study, was not an isolated and 
unusual occurrence ; similar meetings were frequent, 
and, with singular tact, the professor had at them 
just the parties who, in course of time, would prove 
useful allies on the side of law and order, in the 
movement he was planning to dissolve the secret 
societies, grown so pernicious, without noise, friction 
or any pyrotechnic parade of power. Little by little 
he had inspired in the breasts of these boys, some 
of them indolent, others active enough but in the 
wrong direction, and spendthrifts and not studious, 
a hearty ambition to succeed and deserve wholesome 
praise. And a growing high sense of manly honor 
that they were not afraid to boast of. And he 
listened attentively and amusedly to their candid 
and oft-times enthusiastic recital of the successes and 
failures of the various mischievous pranks of them- 
selves and others. 

And his frowns, or mildly protesting remarks when 
he would say, 

“ That was downright meanness — absolute !” or, 

“Why, that savors of bullyism and — cowardice;” or, 

“That was unduly severe and unprovoked, I shall 
lose my respect for him if he is ever so atrocious 
again.” 

These and similar comments did more to divert 
their, hitherto misdirected, strong animal exuberance 
into channels of harmless, if not ultimate beneficial 
dissipation and real usefulness, than all the chapel 
lectures and exhortations, and spasmodic reigns of 


THE GREEK-LETTER CLANS ON THE WAR-PATH. 3 1 

stringent discipline, and “ examples,” by way of sus- 
pensions and expulsions, put together. 

****** 

A special meeting of the college faculty, with 
closed doors, was held that eventful Saturday night, 
and a secret session was resolved on, for the follow- 
ing Tuesday night, to investigate Moultrie’s and 
other cases. The truly honest and conscientious pro- 
fessor of classics, in an earnest and, for him, impas- 
sioned speech, held that, to exclude the towns- 
people, during their investigation, was unAmerican. 
Especially would it be a grievous injustice, he said, to 
exclude those who had suffered in the demolition of 
or injury to their property, and he urged that such 
sufferers were entitled to all the encouragement the 
faculty could extend in the prompt prosecution of 
the trespassers. But he was voted down. He did 
not know of wily Quantrell’s designs. 

Further on we will see how the collegians took it. 
Before the Tuesday night session, for the investiga- 
tion had rolled around, the college secret societies 
had met in more than one important convocation. 

When that night did arrive, it was cloudy and very 
dark. Otherwise, issuing from houses in the town, 
here and there, could have been seen numerous 
young men, all directing their footsteps toward one 
common rendezvous. Most of the students roomed 
in private houses. 

They were a grotesque looking assemblage, when, 
having donned their disguises, all were congregated 
at that out of the way little building, known, far and 
wide, as “ Buzzard’s Roost.” And there was a 
wealth of fun in the roll-call of ridiculous nom-de- 
plumes, pronounced in a guttural, disguised voice, 
by the keeper of the records. 

“ Is the owl ready ?” spoke one, apparently chief, 
after all had responded to their names, and the in- 
spector had passed down the line, scrutinizing each 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


32 

face closely, the mask being removed, as he ap- 
proached each in succession. 

“ The owl is ready ; its mission is to hoot !” (which 
meant that no spies were present and everything 
was in readiness for the business they had assembled 
to transact), replied a stoutish domino, about five 
feet four inches “tall,” in a deep, bass voice. 

“ ’Tis well !” responded the chief. “ Every brother 
to his task and ‘ I’m sick, send for McGinnis!’ ” 

At this order there was a general scattering. 

Meanwhile, the faculty had assembled at the col- 
lege parlors, and the accused students and witnesses 
were in waiting in adjoining rooms. 

Business was begun, and the hour of nine pealed 
forth soon thereafter, from the sweet-toned chapel 
bell, which had formerly called to masses and matins 
the hooded monks of a Mexican monastery, in Chi- 
huahua, and the metal of which was largely silver. 

The old inscription on it was half obliterated, for 
this bell had been cast, centuries ago, in old Spain, 
and had reached, on mule back, the now abandoned 
adobe tower in which it had hung many decades, 
daily summoning to their devotions the mongrel 
population within hearing of the melodious clatter 
of its tongue. 

To Cedar-Crest College it had been donated by 
an old graduate, with considerable of both money 
and brains, who had stumbled on it, during his insa- 
tiate quest for new scenes, and trophies, and adven- 
tures, in Mexico and Central and South America. 

As the last musical strokes of the hour died away, 
both barrels of a shot-gun were discharged, imme- 
diately under one of the windows of the college 
parlors. 

And this was the signal fora perfect fusillade. A 
perfect pandemonium of noises. The air was split:, 
and rent and torn with the ringing of all sizes of 
cow-bells and hand-bells, the blowing of a seeming 
myriad of shrill whistles, the blaring of numerous 


THE GREEK-LETTER CLANS ON THE WAR-PATH. 33 

trumpets, the beating of a score of noisy drums and 
the firing of many pistols. 

But, above all this deafening din, like the bellow- 
ing of forty mad bulls, or the so-called music of a 
dozen discordant calliopes, there arose a tremendous, 
indefinable roar and shriek combined that, in the 
stillness of the dark night, brought wondering peo- 
ple to their outer doors, for miles around. 

Several fence rails had been scraped with glass, 
resin had been melted and poured on dry-goods 
boxes, that had been purloined from Quantrell and 
other inimical village merchants, and out of these 
had been constructed the mammoth bass viols or 
“ horse fiddles ” that gave forth these appalling, in- 
imitable and indescribable sounds. 

The resin had been cemented thickly to the boxes, 
across which the rails were moved as a violin bow is 
drawn across the strings of a violin. While the up- 
roar lasted it was impossible for the faculty to pro- 
ceed with the business in hand, or even hear each 
other talk. 

Although orgies of the kind had disturbed the 
nocturnal stillness of Cedar Crest many a time be- 
fore, nothing to compare in magnitude with this had 
ever occurred in the history of the college. 

The faculty was misled by the fact that no protest 
against the secret investigation had been lodged by 
the students, and mistakenly accepted the demon- 
stration as an act of hostility on the part of the 
towns-people. 

That the destruction of some of the park trees, 
and disfiguration of the buildings would ensue, 
seemed imminent to the president, and he was 
greatly worried. 

Cheval, who had faced fully as furious dins more 
than once in the heat of battle, during “ the late 
unpleasantness,” and had lain through many sleep- 
less nights, in wild Western camps, listening to the 
hideous howling of ravenous wolves, was neither 
worried nor awed in the least, but smiled amusedly. 


34 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


now and then, as extra bursts swelled the prevailing 
clamor. 

Finally the president, in half a dozen written lines, 
proposed a plan of action. 

He intimated that the raiders would probably be 
well armed with venerable eggs, and other disagree- 
able missiles of that ilk, and possibly a few dead 
cats, or rats, or both ; that they would not hesitate 
at violence to prevent detection, and that although 
lives might be safe enough, if the faculty essayed a 
sally against them, those in the sortie might be 
forced to return bearing that character of undesir- 
able souvenirs on their person. 

On the other hand, was it quite the thing to sit 
there quietly and submit to this interruption of their 
lawful deliberation ? and the probable greater or less 
spoliation of the property entrusted to their care ? 

He presented these points for the consideration of 
the professors and requested their views briefly, in 
writing, since, because of the noise, he could not get 
at them orally. 

He assumed, ab initio , that the serenaders were 
principally rowdies, with perhaps a few disaffected, 
respectable citizens, present more as mere lookers-on 
than as participants. 

Differing opinions resulted. Only one of which 
seemed note-worthy, however, and that was by the 
assistant professor of mathematics. 

A queer little man, about five feet three inches 
high, weighing about ninety pounds, having a face 
with bald eyebrows, two-thirds of which was a fore- 
head that pitched forward, at an angle of twenty 
degrees. 

The ten or twelve sickly-looking hairs on his thin 
upper lip showed prominently or were obscure, ac- 
cording as his complexion was white or red. 

If he blushed, and he was capable of that frailty, 
each individual hair stood out and asserted itself, 
like a drum-major on dress parade. If, from sick- 
ness, perchance, or any other cause, he was haggard, 


THE GREEK-LETTER CLANS ON THE WAR-PATH. 35 


they retired to the background, as if in sympathy, 
and were discernible only at close quarters, and on 
close inspection. 

The professor had a falsetto voice, which was al- 
ways pitched in proportion to his excitement. He 
was eccentric to a marked degree, and said and 
did many odd and ridiculous, as well as many wise 
and kindly things, out of the common ways. Some 
of the less respectful of the students brazenly as- 
serted that certain ingenious minds from among 
them had invented a psychologic scale, which, sus- 
pended in the same room where he was speaking, 
would, as unerringly as a thermometer — and discount- 
ing “much times ” a barometer — record the extent 
to which the spirit moved him. “ The great diffi- 
culty” to overcome, was that said scale could not 
define the kind of spirit. 

And hence it was not infallibly safe. For, some- 
times, when it was fon dly hoped a beneficent halo 
was suffusing his face, deluded believers thereof were 
most rudely shocked to find, instead, that, in a minor 
way, “ Sheol was to pay.” 

The invention was in fact not comine il faut. 

It was more thoroughly unsatisfactory than a 
Keely motor. Somewhat excitedly the little profes- 
sor handed to the anxiety-weighted president his 
answer to his note. “ Differing demands,” he wrote, 
“ appeal to us in this trying emergency. First, we 
are called to assert our dignity. Then, we are 
warned to remain in statu quo until our lawless dis- 
turbers withdraw from sheer exhaustion. I will 
abide by the decision of the majority. Let us have 
no hesitancy. But, if it says, Go forth promptly 
and subject yourselves to the jeers and shameful humili- 
ation that zvill surely signalize our advent outside, then 
I will so abide under most solemn protest and would 
rather not participate.” 

By this time quite a large crowd was wending its 
way from the town to the college, bent on “seeing 
the fun.” And a cold, drizzling rain had set in. 


36 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Cheval, alert, had been listening intently, behind 
the curtain at one of the windows, for some mo- 
ments. 

Now, with a satisfied, rather delighted gleam in 
his eyes, he handed the president a folded note, 
hastily scribbled, which the latter read and, smiling 
pleasantly, inquiringly, nodded “ Yes.” Whereupon 
Cheval walked out. 

He was gone not more than ten minutes when he 
reappeared, arrayed in a ludicrous disguise, and an- 
nounced to the astounded faculty that the serenaders 
were students, fraters of the “ Greek-Letter clans.” 

The faculty, greatly surprised, thereupon immedi- 
ately sallied forth in a body, and each professor, 
independent of the others, was instructed to make 
his best endeavor to capture and identify some one, 
repairing finally to his home, and reporting results 
the next morning at chapel. 

But later on these instructions were changed. 

Let us follow in the drift of events on that memor- 
able n.’ght for Cedar-Crest College, as they are 
described in the next chapter. 

They were the all-absorbing topic of discussion in; 
the town, and throughout the adjacent county, for 
many a day, and sealed the doom of secret societies; 
at that school, forever. 

And, with the demise of the secret societies, a 
healthy tone sprang up. Hazing almost entirely 
died out, and the number of students increased 
largely. 

A military branch was added, presided over by a 
regular arrqy officer, ordered from some artillery 
seaboard garrison by the President of the United 
States, and the students, as cadets, expended much 
of their surplus anijnal vitality in sabre exercise and 
infantry drill, with just the same kind of “ Cadet 
Rifles ” as are used at West Point, and maneuvered 
also with three-inch field-guns, many of the boys 
becoming, in the course of time, excellent cannoniefs, 
fine swordsmen 4nd good riflemen, 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 37 


CHAPTER III. 

THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 

If the faculty had imagined they were going to 
capture the offenders in the events just narrated, 
and whom they were now so valiantly sallying forth 
against, they soon found they had egregiously mis- 
calculated. 

There were bearded men, of twenty odd years, as 
well as shrewd, sharp-witted, and quick-footed boys 
in the besieging party, and all the participants be- 
longed to secret societies, that had planned with 
completeness, and were carrying out their precon- 
certions with precision. 

The whole affair had been, in fact, superbly or- 
ganized, even to the least important details, all of 
which were carefully adhered to in the execution. 

Sentinels had been posted to guard against any 
attempted constabulary surprise from town, and 
others, at the various exits of the college building, 
to guard against just such a one as the professors 
were attempting, when they made their sortie ; and 
Cheval had succeeded in issuing from the basement 
and mingling with theserenaders, and had found out 
their identity merely because of his effectual disguise 
previously put on. 

The boys had been too much absorbed in their 
mischievous work to notice him critically, and be- 
cause of his strange costume were all unsuspicious 
of the advent among them of a member of the 
faculty, arrayed in ridiculous domino much like 
their own. 

One daring young fellow, sweet-faced, of lovely 
disposition and brave as could be, and as agile as a 
cat, had climbed a lightning-rod and, at great risk, 
had crawled along the broad, projecting brick cop- 
ing of the second story, to where he could peer into 


38 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


an unshuttered window of the college parlors, where 
the faculty were assembled, and under which the 
noisiest of his comrades were making night hideous. 

Even this young man, who had seen Professor 
Cheval leave the room, had no thought that he 
would disguise himself as he had. 

But when he saw him return he understood it 
all. 

He was too late, however, for any warning he 
might attempt to give could not reach his comrades 
below. No signs of his could arrest their attention, 
and no call he could make could possibly be heard 
by them. 

The din prevailing was too deafening. 

Long before he could descend to them, the faculty 
would be in their midst, and therefore, making a 
virtue of necessity, he snuggled down on his perch, 
closely, so as to present the least possible surface 
for observation, and awaited results. 

There he remained for half an hour through the 
bitter, biting blasts that blew from the North, and 
the cold rain that chilled and drenched and stiffened 
him, making his return to the friendly lightning-rod 
and descent to terra firma when that could, at last, 
be done safely, a much more difficult and dangerous 
undertaking than climbing to his perilous perch had 
been. 

Finally, after the janitor had extinguished all the 
lights, and the college park was deserted, silent, and 
dark, save the dismal noise made by the trees swayed 
by the soughing, moisture-freighted wind, and the 
beating of the storm, he cautiously crept over to and 
down the lightning-rod to the ground, and, with in- 
ward vowing that he would never be caught in such 
a plight again, hurried to his room and, while un- 
dressing, ran his eyes over a short, curt note lying 
on his table, directing him to explain at Chapel, the 
next morning, his whereabouts at io P. M. that 
night. 

“ I’m in for it/' he sighed, and went to bed, but 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 39 

not to prayers the next morning, for, just two weeks 
from that hour his corpse was taken eastward on the 
cars, for final interment at his mother’s home. 

Poor Boy ! 

A severe cold, caught by exposure that night, and 
resultant fever and sore throat, had kept him con- 
fined to his bed until he had died. 

Let us return to the college and learn what hap- 
pened to his comrades and the faculty. 

Pleaded by the president, the latter had hurried 
toward the north exit, but had hardly reached the 
bottom of the basement stairway and turned down 
the hall, when up went a glaring, hissing sky- 
rocket from that front of the building, and, as if by 
magic, the din ceased instantly and entirely, all save 
a few horns and cow-bells on the west side, retreat- 
ing towards the woods. 

“ There is something Napoleonic in this,” said 
Cheval to the president, enthusiastically. 

The several professors issued valiantly from the 
building, completely blinded, however, by the sud- 
den change from the bright light within, to the 
pitchy darkness without. 

They paused a few moments, and then Cheval, 
who declared he knew every inch of the ground, vol- 
unteered to make a wide detour and come in behind 
“ those saucy fellows in the west, who seemed to 
be hurling defiance ” at them, if some one would 
advance directly against them, slowly, guided by the 
noise. 

The president suggested that the assistant pro- 
fessor of mathematics do the latter, laughingly ad- 
ding that ; 

“ He is so small in physique and thin, he could 
pounce on them before they suspected his approach, 
since he has such a huge building as the college for 
a background, shutting out his outline entirely 
against the eastern horizon.” 

The little fellow demurred, rather snappishly, and 


40 


MOULTRIE L>E KALB. 


was much irritated at the allusion to his diminu- 
tiveness. 

“ I’m sure I’m not so astonishingly small, that you 
should make my stature the subject of such especial 
mention,” he said, pettishly, in a squeaky voice. 

“ You are just the man I should have asked for if 
the doctor had not so happily anticipated me,” in- 
terposed Cheval, encouragingly, laughing quietly 
meanwhile. 

“ By going directly for those sounds and lanterns, 
you can drive them directly into my arms. 

“ Take your time about it, however, and don’t 
fall over any brush-heaps or logs. 

“ They have been cutting timber over that way, 
and you’ll find lots of them. 

“ I was through there after some squirrels this 
very afternoon.” 

The little fellow said, with some trepidation, as 
though he wished it would be all right if he refused 
utterly to move : 

“ I will go, of course ; I esteem it my duty , but 
really, I do not believe I will catch anyone or any- 
thing, except my death of cold!” 

So he went. 

And it would have been better for him if he had 
not. The other members of the faculty were then 
assigned less disagreeable tasks. The rooms in the 
town occupied by students were divided up among 
them, and each professor hurried to visit those al- 
lotted him, to ascertain who were, and who were not, 
at home, before the participants in that night’s work 
could get there first. 

And many were the tricks resorted to by the. 
boisterous serenaders to hoodwink and mislead 
them. 

It had been preconcerted, in the secret societies, 
when this very emergency was discussed in conclave, 
that the students who reached their rooms before- 
hand should, on the visit of one of the faculty, which 
they felt sure would occur, feign sleep and respond 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 4! 

tardily and only at the last moment possible* admit 
him. 

It had also been prearranged that those residing 
at a considerable distance should turn in with those 
rooming nearer the college, in order that no treach- 
erous or unfriendly citizen should discover and be- 
tray them. 

The few horns and cow-bells, still insolently sound- 
ing in the west, constituted a sort of rear-guard to 
cover the retreat of the main body. This rear- 
guard was composed of half a dozen Good Templars. 

Six miles away a sister organization gave a literary 
entertainment on that night, followed by a festival, 
and these students of the rear-guard belonged to the 
number who had received leave to attend. 

It was a rule of the college that students must be 
in their rooms at night unless especially permitted 
to be absent, and then their whereabouts must be 
stated. 

They made known beforehand where they wanted 
to go, when they applied for the permission, and at 
chapel the next morning, when they responded to 
their names at roll-call, reported in writing where 
they had been while absent. 

The “ rear-guard ” men were therefore absent by 
authority, and could keep up their racket to divert 
the attention of the faculty from those who must 
retire speedily to their rooms, as long as suited their 
own sweet wills, or at least until captured or discov- 
ered. They need have no fear of consequences 
unless that occurred. 

Among this rear-guard was Fatty Forbush, as 
jolly, shrewd, and rotund a mischief breeder as ever 
growled at the Greek alphabet. 

Forbush was eighteen years old, five feet six 
inches high and weighed two hundred and twenty 
pounds. He was very broad shouldered and for his 
great rotundity of body very small limbed. 

These very proportions actually made him comely, 


42 


MOULTRIE £>E KALB. 


after a fashion, and no doubt accounted for his 
extraordinary agility. 

He was “ captain ” of the rear-guard, and all his 
orders were carried out with the alacrity and preci- 
sion of military disipline. 

Fatty’s features were a study. Across the room, 
where, on account of distance, you could not dis- 
cern the intelligence in the clear, brown, twinkling 
eyes, and the fun lurking in the corners of the 
handsome mouth, the face looked like some of the 
comic almanac pictures of the full moon. So every 
one said. 

There was a saucy defiance in the pug nose, and 
decision of character in the square chin, that reso- 
lutely asserted itself in spite of the wealth of con- 
tiguous fat, bulging out from the neck. 

His skin was as soft and as velvety as a girl’s — 
some girls — his complexion roseate — red and white 
— his hair blonde and cut very short. 

And his head — some of the seminary girls used to 
exclaimed — “Oh, that head /” 

In the language of juvenile geography, “his head 
was round, like a ball or an apple !” 

When the little professor, who was very near- 
sighted, carefully wiped his spectacles, and in a pip- 
ing voice said, “ Good-night, gentlemen,” it began to 
rain furiously. 

On he went however, toward the taunting noises, 
when suddenly — directly in his path and not a hun- 
dred yards ahead — a torch was lighted, whose ruddy 
rays lent weird and fantastic shapes to the trees and 
their changing shadows, and exposed to view a 
copy of 

“ The Owl,” a paper issued clandestinely by the 
societies, posted on a decayed stump, and illumin- 
ated with phophorescent headlines. 

The professor halted a moment, somewhat startled, 
glanced at it, and began to seriously debate the 
propriety of proceeding further. 

“Was there an ambush ahead, and would it be 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 43 

better discretion not to seek to uncover it, or would 
it pay to push on?” he asked himself. 

His reflections were interrupted by a loud hoot- 
ing, a well-feigned imitation of the night-bird whose 
name the placard bore. 

Its nearness caused him to start again, yet he 
could discern nothing in the darkness. The torch 
had been extinguished and only the phosphoric 
headlines of 

“ The Owl ” lit up with a ghostly light the sur- 
roundings — 

“ Who — who — who are you ! ! !” 

Reverberated through the leafy recesses of the 
woods, and was repeated again and again, from 
different points in the bosky depths. 

Only a moment did the little man give way to his 
sudden alarm and misgiving, and then — he was 
really brave — he dashed quickly toward the nearest 
of the taunting sounds. 

A pack of fire-crackers at the same moment was 
set off by “ Fatty ” Forbush, for it was he who had 
flourished the torch, and they served to guide the 
professor in his pursuit. 

Fatty had discovered his identity, and felt sure he 
could lead him wheresoever he would, and at the 
same time elude capture or discovery himself, if fol- 
lowed by no one else. So he pushed deeper and 
deeper into the dense forest, dropping the fire- 
crackers constantly, and entirely unsuspicious of 
Cheval’s flank movement. 

“ This is ghostly, ghoulish, hideous !” exclaimed 
the little professor, in a paryoxism of rage, as he 
wrenched his foot between two projecting roots of a 
veteran forest giant, topheavy and soon to fall, the 
same as overloaded brains ofttimes prostrate not 
deeply rooted physical developments. 

“Nothing good can ever come to the instigators 
and actors concerned in it. 

“ It is absolutely devlish !” he ejaculated with 
unusual vehemence as he struck the big toe of his 


44 


MOULTRIE D£ KALS. 


stub boot against another protruding but uncon- 
sciously offending root. 

And then he said, yes, reader, he, the little pro- 
fessor said — “ Darn it all !” as he almost fell pros- 
trate over a vine in which he had haplessly entangled 
his right foot. 

For a moment he stopped and lifting his eyes sky- 
ward exclaimed, in protesting tones — 

“ For what on earth are we poor teachers — we 
'outraged instructors of rising generations made ? 
Are we created to be the mere playthings of bab- 
bling youths and half-formed specimens of prospec- 
tive mental and moral, but ultimately thoroughly 
.educated human deformities — inborn with ineradica- 
ble depravity ?” 

But the dear little man with all his good and bad, 
.and indifferent reflections was not permitted to 
ruminate over them long, although he was getting 
deep into the forest where, like in the pastures, all is 
usually quiet, and ample opportunity for rumination 
in its most primitive form is afforded. But he 
; stopped and began to deliberate. 

Bang! Bang!! Bang!!! rang out the reports of 
.a pistol which echoed and re-echoed in demon-like 
reverberations throughout the dark woods and gave 
:a ghastly aspect to the down pouring rain, the 
.moaning and shrieking and whistling and sighing 
<of the winds through the foliage, and the light- 
ning and thunder and sudden owl-hooting from 
seeming various directions. 

“ Ah ! These wicked young Wizards ! these can- 
didates for prison halls ! Why, oh why should we 
waste our tuition powder on them only to ripen and 
sharpen their debased minds, and enable them the 
more adroitly and successfully, through the very 
agency of their education, to ply their instinctive 
wickedness and gather in the fell fruits thereof !” 
Alas ! Poor deluded man, at different times in later 
years, he grasped by the hand some of these same 
youthful miscreants he was now so impolitely con- 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 45 

demning, clad in the garb and boasting the prestige 
and prerogatives of senators, judges, great lawyers, 
generals and even clergymen, and boasted of them as 
his former pupils. 

Modern wisdom has at last solved the problem, 
lifted the veil, and disclosed the wisest way for the 
expenditure of superabundant animal spirits, and, 
colleges, everywhere, now encourage, to the fullest 
scope, all kinds of manly and womanly athletic, and 
diverting and satisfying sports, and innocent recrea- 
tions as the outlet therefor. 

Modern scholastic wisdom, tempered with com- 
mon sense and sagacity, is a good thing to have on 
deck and at the helm, where formation of character 
is the proposed cruise, and perfection the desired 
ultimate harbor. 

Fortunately for him, Fatty Forbush had directed 
his course south-westerly, while Cheval’s detour, 
after scaling the college fence, had been north-west- 
erly. The noise of the discharging fire-crackers and 
pistol, however, had caused Cheval to change direc- 
tion, and hurry toward them, and finally, just as the 
last of the last pack gave out, “Fatty ” reached the 
point he was decoying the little professor to, and 
jumping over a small brush pile, cleared a narrow 
puddle of water, just beyond, and turned and 
stopped suddenly, reiterating, as naturally as any real 
owl could, his ominous sounding: 

“ Who — who — who are you ?” 

Straightway the Professor, who, by half a minute's 
delay, Fatty had permitted to come quite close, 
rushed toward the sound, totally oblivious of the 
intervening brush pile and puddle. 

He reached it, he plunged into it, and then fell, 
sprawling, with arms outstretched, into it. 

A terrific, shrieking, hideous, maniacal laugh rent 
the air in response and resounded, with awful dis- 
tinctness, through the leafy aisles of the deep forest, 
from Fatty, who, just in the nick of time, and not an 
instant too soon, discerned the tall figure of Profes- 


4 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


sor Cheval rapidly approaching on his flank. Now, 
all was intense darkness, save the fitful flashes of 
lightning by which he had discovered him, and the 
rain fell in torrents. 

Fatty was unsurpassed as a mimic, he was consid- 
ered a real genius in that respect, and could have 
made a fortune on the stage. 

But he was no match in a foot-race for Cheval, 
who had the eye of a hawk, and the fleetness of a 
deer, and unless he could elude him by some strata- 
gem — to quote his own expressive, but not strictly 
elegant words, — he was “ a goner.” 

Therefore, after quickly passing back around the 
brush pile to the side from where the little Professor 
had fallen over it, and retreating several yards to- 
ward the college, he cried out in perfect imitation of 
that gentleman’s voice : 

“ Stop, you young rascals ! stop instantly, I say ! I 
know who you are, every one of you !” and more to 
the same effect, retreating the meanwhile, and Cheval 
was completely deceived. 

Then Fatty hurried on cautiously and noiselessly, 
arriving in due time at his room, which had not been 
visited by any of the faculty, since he was “ absent 
by permission,” in supposed attendance at the Good 
Templar entertainment, six miles away. 

“ Hold on, professor!” shouted Cheval at the top 
of his full, round, melodious voice: 

“ Here is one of your culprits come to suddea 
grief,” then with some sharpness: 

“ Get up out of that mire, young man, and let me 
have a good look at you !” 

“ Help me find my glasses, Cheval,” came faintly 
in response, from the little professor. 

“ Great Jove ! Is that you ?” exclaimed Cheval. 

“ I thought I heard you chasing some of the boys 
off there,” pointing south. 

“ No, it was someone else, perhaps the young mis- 
creant himself who led me into this trap. I see it all 
now, he took advantage of my blindness.” 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 47 

“ Oh, if I could only get hold of him !” And the 
little man shook his fist impotently, and pursed his 
lips. 

“ Who was it, did you make him out ?” queried 
Cheval, with quavering voice, hardly able to suppress 
a roar at the demoralized tone and appearance of his 
companion, as far as the lightning flashes would 
permit him to discern him. 

Poor little fellow! He was indeed in a sad plight 
for one so fastidious, so scrupulously neat and dapper 
in person and attire. 

Cheval afterward — in narrating the occurrence con- 
fidentially to the President, said, that if he had 
been actually walking on it all through that rainy 
night his left ear could not have been filled fuller of 
mud. 

It was, without doubt, “ downright mean ” — par- 
don the Westernism — for these two, so generally 
considered above all such phases of enjoyment, to 
discuss so jocosely, and comment so merrily on, and 
laugh so heartily, at this sad discomfiture of that 
gallant little man, and especially, so irreverently, 
right in the sanctum-sanctorum of the college, the 
president’s inner room, with the large plaster busts 
of so many great ancients — Greek and Roman — 
statesmen, poets and philosophers, looking serenely 
down on them from their several niches in the 
walls, finished off in rich and exquisitely conceived 
and singularly appropriate classic frescoes. 

Yet the two, the sedate and reverend president 
and the dignified yet jocular professor did enjoy 
themselves as thoroughly over the mishaps of their 
little friend as they ever enjoyed boyhood fun in 
their own school-boy days. 

It was the little professor’s left foot that had 
tangled in the brush-heap, and on his left side he 
had fallen. Fallen heavily on his left shoulder, di- 
rectly into the middle of the puddle, and then, fol- 
lowing the inevitable law of momentum, his left ear 
had performed, if not gracefully, nevertheless per- 


48 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


fectly and thoroughly, the office of a scoop, going 
down among the sediment of dead leaves and loam 
at the bottom of the shallow pool, and dragging his 
head after it so that his nose, mouth, and left eye 
were submerged. 

His immaculate shirt, cuffs and choker collar 
looked as though they had been for a protracted 
period, “ down among the coal mines underneath the 
ground/' 

Absent-mindedly he rose, one hand clutching 
its fill of mud gathered in his frantic hunt for his 
spectacles. 

Cheval promised to assist him home through the 
prevailing darkness, and come with him quietly the 
next day and join in a search for them, for they 
were a valuable pair of glasses. 

And it was fortunate indeed that he was on hand 
to help him home, elsewise Heaven only knows what 
would have become of the brave little man, out in 
that storm, unknowing his whereabouts and with 
neither compass nor guide to help him. 

He would have perished. 

Fatty Forbush escaped, undiscovered even by 
Cheval, and was not even suspected, neither by the 
faculty nor the towns-people. 

At 8:30 o’clock the next morning the chapel bell 
commenced tolling for prayers, and he was there as 
serene and tranquil as a summer morn. 

The bell was always tolled for five minntes, before 
morning devotions. The janitor had thrown open 
the doors, but had left as he had found them all the 
evidences, around and about the edifice, of the pre- 
vious night’s mischief. 

In the quaint, high-backed arm-chair of the Pro- 
fessor of Natural Sciences, which properly should 
have been on the rostrum in that professor’s lecture 
room, but was now on the broad, chapel steps, was 
the human skeleton belonging to his recitation-room 
holding in its fleshless fingers a copy of “ Th$ 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 49 

On the chapel door conspicuously posted was an- 
other copy of that euphoniously named paper, and 
sewed to a red flag at half staff, hanging from an 
upper front window, was a third. 

Placards innumerable were also pasted on the col- 
lege park trees on which were written : 

“ Down With The Inquisition !!!” 

“ The Owl ” contained one especially scathing 
article giving a history of that institution in Spain ; 
and declared it had been resurrected from its un- 
canny grave, and transplanted to Cedar-Crest College. 

Several satirical paragraphs, denunciatory of secret 
sessions of the faculty in the interest of town-folks, 
and other articles, appeared caricaturing different 
professors, and ridiculing and abusing them shame- 
fully. 

On one huge elm was a cartoon showing citizens, 
Si Quantrell and one or two others drawn to life, 
presenting to the faculty charges against certain 
students, the head officers of the secret societies es- 
pecially. 

Below this was another representing Moultrie De 
Kalb proving an alibi, and still another wherein 
Si Quantrell and the other citizens of his group were 
represented as insisting, angrily, and the President 
is bowing cringing compliance while he kicks 
Moultrie. 

To say that these surprised every member of the 
faculty is a very faint expression indeed of their 
feelings. 

They were simply astounded ! 

They could not believe their senses — was it pos- 
sible that their action in holding a secret session 
could be so misjudged, or was there some deep 
trickery back of it all ? 

The time at chapel that morning was considerably 
protracted beyond what was usual. 

The doors were locked — foolish shortsighted act — 
and two professors walked through the aisles tQ 
note if any but students were present, 


50 


MOIJLTRIE DE KALB. 


The precaution seemed simply ridiculous, for who 
could expect three hundred boys to successfully 
keep a secret, or even divulge it with strict adher- 
ence to truth. Not that there would be willful false- 
hood. Oh ! no. But because every mind notes the 
same remark, or affair, or occurrence, or incident 
from a different standpoint, different conditions 
habitually controlling different persons and invari- 
ably leading to different conclusions, however insig- 
nificant the difference, shades, or different points of 
observation may be ; especially is this- true with 
young people. 

There was one element to which the good presi- 
dent, in a wounded tone, addressed his feeling re- 
marks, at the conclusion of the usual chapel service, 
that could not be in the least conciliated. 

The voice of the dear old man trembled, as he 
pointed out, to those responsible for these displays, 
the injustice of their course, if what was announced 
in the placards they had secretly the previous night 
posted was a true index of their honest convictions. 

He then candidly informed the students why he 
had advocated investigation with closed doors, and 
so feelingly and eloquently did he repudiate the 
charge of inquisitorial motives that more than one 
head hung, shame-faced, at the sound of his softly 
intoned but manly, dignified and ringing words. 

The element that was not conciliated was the 
village contingent to the ranks of the school, the 
sons, in two cases, of notoriously disaffected 
citizens. 

Locking the doors against eaves-droppers, with 
these fellows present, was worse than inviting the 
villagers to turn out en masse, and listen to any open 
attempt at a vindication to the students by the 
faculty, of the action cited. It would have been 
better, far better to have carried the war into the 
enemies’ country, and hired a hall in town for the 
purpose of pronouncing that vindication. 

Nevertheless, the grand old man, by his eloquence 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 5 1 

and patience, and the goodness that shone from his 
face and echoed in his voice, won every rebel to al- 
legiance to himself, and after this the investigation 
went on successfully, and there were no further dis- 
turbances of any kind on the college premises. 

Both collegians and citizens became deeply inter- 
ested and awaited the outcome with anxiety. 

Outwitted and defeated at the college, Si Quan- 
trell bestirred himself, industriously, among certain 
irresponsible, gabbling, and vapory students, and a 
few citizens whom he could mould to his will, and 
remembered as lookers-on at the charivari, and left 
no stone unturned, no effort unexerted, to fix a case 
against Moultrie. The very difficulties that ob- 
structed seemed to spur his malignity the more. 

But Moultrie, besides the secret societies, had two 
good and true friends in town, a widow lady and her 
daughter, a kind of friends seldom reckoned on in 
such an emergency. The husband of the lady had 
been a confederate officer in Hood’s army, and the 
wife and child, who were from Nashville, Tennessee, 
had seen him last near Franklin, the night before 
that terrible day of the great battle of that name, 
fought in December, 1864, fatal alike to so many 
brave men in both blue and gray. 

Gallantly had Colonel Poinsett charged with his 
regiment against the Union earth-works, and when 
the repulsed survivors of his command fell back they 
left him, they supposed dead, lying prone on the 
bloody field, in the hands of the enemy, and sur- 
rounded by numerous other dead and mortally 
wounded comrades. 

Mrs. Poinsett and Bertha had lived in Cedar-Crest 
not quite three years. She had moved from Tennes- 
see to that locality, to occupy and improve property 
received by bequest, or dispose of it if the surround- 
ings proved uninviting. 

Many causes combined to keep her there long 
after her judgment had suggested a dignified retreat 
to some other place, where' she could live unmolest- 


52 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


edly, without being forced to publish or have pub- 
lished, by meddlesome gossips, all her domestic 
privacies. 

There was in Cedar-Crest the same amount of 
Paul Pryism usual in villages, where neighbors keep 
posted as to the daily bills of fare and the incom- 
ings and outgoings of each other, and think it all 
right and proper. 

Mrs. Poinsett had not been used to this, but she 
was no sooner settled in her handsome cottage, with 
its tidy and pretty grounds and lovely shrubbery, 
than the principal village dames called, according to 
custom, and drew from her all they could regarding 
her previous history. And she narrated it unre- 
servedly. 

As a result the general verdict was, at first, in her 
favor. She was proclaimed “ charming ’’and “ lovely,” 
and the least said was that she was “ interesting.” 
But as time rolled on, and, from a disinclination 
to go out save when compelled by some pressing 
duty, she neglected to return those calls, all she had 
said to her visitors was resurrected, and turned over 
and over, and adversely commented on and gar- 
bled and misrepresented. They believed she had 
deliberately snubbed them, and such a thought had 
never entered her mind. 

Mrs. Wades, for instance, surmised something 
auspicious and not quite the thing you know to 
Mrs. Smitheree, and Mrs. Smitheree repeated it, 
'with added condemnation, to Mrs. Calladay as a 
fact. And unlike a rolling stone, it gathered moss 
as it traveled. 

Among other things it was claimed that, by her 
< own admission, she, aided by a few faithful and de- 
moted slaves, had wanted to, if she had not actually 
jin person, applied the torch that . set the fire that 
iburned Franklin, on the terrible and blood-fraught 
night that General Schofield’s army retreated to- 
ward Nashville, under cover of darkness ; she, hoping 
by the deed to so light up the back ground .that the 


THE COLLEGE REBELLION ADVANCES APACE. 53 

confederates, under Hood, would be able to detect 
and thwart the movement. 

Mrs. Poinsett, who was in Franklin on that mem- 
orable night, had graphically depicted some of the 
stirring scenes that transpired, and had enthused, 
somewhat, on what she had chosen to denominate 
“the valor of our boys in gray.” But she had been 
so vivacious and charming at the time of the re^ 
hearsal, that the incident was not turned as a weapon 
against her until after her antipathy for gossip had 
condemned her as being all together “ too self-corn 
tained.” 

It was a singular fact, however, that those ladies 
who sought to make capital off these, to say the 
least, indiscreet utterances of the little widow were, 
all, the wives of men who stayed safely at home dur- 
ing the war, and two of them, who had been drafted, 
paid each $1,000 for a substitute. 

This gossip was silly, of course. But there were 
some people in Cedar-Crest foolish enough to swal- 
low such stuff as “gospel truth,” and, as politics and 
sectionalism were, by interested parties, principally 
political bummers who had never smelled hostile 
gunpowder, kept to the fore in that little burg, 
about that period, poor little Miss Poinsett and her 
“ onsociable ” mother had to silently endure the 
senseless detraction this falsehood inflicted. That 
they were women made no difference. 

Of course there were others, sensible, chivalrous, 
generous, who did not make war on a defenceless 
woman. 

As a result the Poinsett friendship for Moultrie 
was, in the village, no feather in his cap. He had 
been told as much, and had been advised to court 
the society of the other more popular belles. 

Moultrie had, however, taken a great fancy to 
graceful little Bertha, and could not be persuaded. 

She and her mother were great companions for 
each other, more like loving sisters than anything 
else. With their own society and the occasional, 


54 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


lately frequent, visits of Moultrie, they seemed per- 
fectly content. Not that they disliked any Cedar- 
Crestians, or failed to enjoy the visits of those who 
refrained from scandal, or successfully disguised the 
fact that their visits Avere in the nature of a social 
reconnaisance. 

They were exceedingly attractive, if not fascinat- 
ing, in converation. 

Moultrie one day said to his mother, quite bit- 
terly, that “ envy and malice, from which they ought 
to pray the good Lord to deliver them, was what 
ailed the Cedar-Crest people in their estimate of the 
Poinsetts.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

BERTHA POINSETT, MOULTRIE’S SWEETHEART, AND 
HER FRIEND. 

BERTHA had one devoted chum, Lydia Waring, 
the daughter of the college president. And when- 
ever Bertha and she met there was a veritable ses- 
sion of a mutual admiration society. 

One morning, clad in a gown of fleecy, soft, white 
stuff, trimmed in brown, and wearing a rustic straw 
hat, festooned with wild flowers and brown ribbon, 
the color of her eyes, she tripped gayly up the Poin- 
sett lawn, and in a moment was with Bertha, seated 
under the grape arbor, chirruping all those little 
nothings so dear to the hearts of schoolgirls. 

As Lydia never married, she cannot possibly pose 
in any very fascinating or conspicuous attitude in 
this “o’er true tale,” but, because of her close affilia- 
tion with other charming people who do, she must 
be photographed so you will always be able to re- 
cognize her. I must confess that I am not an ex- 


BERTHA POINSETT, MOULTRIE’S SWEETHEART. 55 

pert artist, and that she is a difficult subject to 
accurately portray, one that would task the skill of 
the most accomplished and finished limner, armed 
with a perfect achromatic equipment. 

She was stylish without ostentation, lithesome as 
a willow, and naturally, but unconsciously, grace- 
ful. Her complexion was red-and-white, her 
forehead low, and suggestive that she was the off- 
spring of successive generations of scholars. Her 
hair, in color, matched her matchless eyes ; beauti- 
ful brown eyes, of that brown so rare, and which 
changes in shade with each changing mood, as her 
hair changed in tint under the varying sheen of the 
sun. They were soft, sympathetic, honest eyes, but 
they could blaze, on provocation. Her lips were of 
a rich red, her teeth perfect, and when she smiled 
there was a pronounced dimple in each velvety 
cheek. She had small hands and feet, was grace- 
fully formed, had an open, honest face, and believed 
she was thoroughly practical. Boasted, in fact, that 
there was no nonsense about her, yet, silly little 
goose, she was the greatest lover of the nonsensical 
in the whole of Cedar-Crest. 

She had a habit of closing her eyes, and appearing 
much interested and pleased whenever any nonsense 
was uttered. 

But it was when she was in deep meditation that 
those rare eyes possessed their greatest charm. It 
was the glorious, Cleopatra-like darkening that be- 
witched. And the flush that suffused the face was 
enchanting. The mouth became a poem. And 
beautifully curved dimples built their nests in its 
exquisitely turned corners. Lydia was, by every- 
one, voted an unusual girl, surpassingly attractive, 
intelligent, lovable, endearing. 

Not a charitable move was put on foot in Cedar- 
Crest in which she did not figure conspicuously. 

Bertha and she were close and confidential friends. 

There were not a few sore masculine hearts on 
account of this remarkable girl. But her armor of 


56 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


determined single-blessedness was invulnerable 
against all the shafts in Cupid’s well-filled quiver. 

Although that youthful offspring of Venus persist- 
ently and incessantly discharged whole volleys at her 
heart, that impenetrable armor caught and cast them 
off like so many barbless straws fired from a pop- 
gun against a battleship. But there is an end to 
everything except time and space. And an end to 
Lydia’s devotion to her mother and hostility to mar- 
riage seemed to have arrived shortly after the ad- 
vent in Cedar-Crest of a distinguished-looking and 
wealthy stranger ; an educated and pleasure-loving 
tourist. 

It would be unfair both to Lydia and the reader 
not to introduce Mr. Blank, and spend an evening, at 
least, with the two and some of Lydia’s friends, in 
the quiet library of her father. 

Mr. Blank, in his history, was quite as remarkable 
as a man as Lydia was as a girl. From a restless, 
quick-witted youth, he had grown to be a sedate but 
ever active man, hungry incessantly for travel and 
new scenes and discoveries. His wonderful memory 
and keen perception, that had enabled him to at 
once master his text books at school, when a boy, 
had not deserted him. And his vitality, sturdiness, 
and almost continuous health had prevented any 
breaks or delays in his numerous long journeys, en- 
abling him to complete them about the time he had 
calculated he would when starting out. 

He was a fluent talker, vivid in description, and 
had a keen sense of the ludicrous, with which he 
skillfully garnished his narrations of his travels. He 
had never remained long in any one place or voca- 
tion, and had an insatiable desire for change. Having 
ample means at command to gratify that desire, his 
career had been as varied, perhaps, as that of any 
living man. 

He had traveled the world o’er. Had ridden in 
sedan chairs and on the backs of camels, elephants 
and stalwart Africans. Had been among Comanches, 


BERTHA POINSETT, MOULTRIE'S SWEETHEART. 57 

Mexicans, Malays and Mussulmen. Had been a 
farmer, merchant, postmaster, editor, army officer, 
college professor, insurance manager, and foreign 
newspaper correspondent. And had given the slap 
in the face to that time-worn adage “ a rolling stone 
gathers no moss,” for he had been, financially, the 
gainer in all his undertakings. 

What called him to Cedar-Crest was to claim 
property he had inherited. 

The only thing he had bankrupted in was matri- 
mony. He became insolvent therein, when he dis- 
covered that his supposed investment in pure, golden 
love was mere tinsel. And since then he had been 
a wandering hermit. Though frequently tempted, 
his one great failure had made him cautious and, 
thus far, he had not again tried his luck in that 
market. 

During his short stay in Cedar-Crest, Mr. Blank 
was a frequent visitor at Dr. Waring’s, and Lydia 
esteemed, liked him, more than all the other men she 
had ever met put together. Something might have 
come of it had Mr. Blank ceased to remember the 
only risk in which he had ever failed. 

Lydia listened with rapt attention to his always 
interesting and sometimes thrilling narrations of his 
travels, and noticed the elegance of his derivative 
language. She was very bright herself in Latin and 
English philology. 

Only when Professor Cheval or Mr. Blank was 
present did Lydia entertain her callers in the library. 
It was her father’s sanctum sanctorum, closed against 
all others. But she thought, surrounded by its books 
and busts, statuary and curios, it was the fit place in 
which to exchange intellectual yet simple language. 

Therefore, when, one evening, because of their 
presence, she had invited several others there she 
was taken aback by the unexpected entrance of her 
father, who called out cheerily, “ Surrender, you 
invaders ! I have captured you en masse !” 


5S 


MOULTRIE t)E KALE. 


Charades and tableaux were being arranged for a 
coming entertainment in behalf of charity. 

Cheval had suggested an original poem as a 
feature. 

“ I don’t see any use in poetry unless its “ very 
funny,” protested Lydia. 

“ Everything has its use,” replied Cheval, smiling. 

“ Poetry is to the mind like flowers to the earth,” 
put in Bertha, impulsively. 

“ I like practical things,” responded Lydia. 

“ Tut, tut ! Daughter !” exclaimed Dr. Waring. 

“ Well, I appeal to Mr. Blank,” interposed Lydia. 
“ Don’t you think practical things are best ? Most 
sensible ?” 

“ Everthingis practical in its way.” He answered. 
“ It is practical with the florist to nurture his flowers, 
but it grows tedious ofttimes, and he sickens at sight 
of nature’s loveliest aspect, before him, because the 
scene has grown monotonous.” 

“ Well, flowers are not poetry,” said Lydia, impati- 
ently. 

“ Poetry, like music, has its usefulness,” continued 
Mr. Blank ; “ and yet how weary musicians do grow 
of music. Yet music inspires, comforts and solaces. 
It can enthuse, soothe, pacify or infuriate.” 

“And ice cream, and candy, and cake ; oh, cake !” 
said Cheval, solemnly. “ How practical they are, 
especially at picnics and church fairs. Cake !” he 
cried, in mock ecstacy. 

And Lydia looked at him with darkening eyes, 
and picked up a book for a missile. To use college 
slang, Lydia was “ the boss cake-baker of the 
town.” 

Cheval continued, “ Who dare say cake is not 
practical, and a good cake baker a jewel, a treas- 
ure ? A priceless member of any family.” 

Just then the book and Lydia’s hand parted com- 
pany, and the professor sought refuge behind a 
pedestal that upheld a bust of Cicero. 

Great traveler and close observer as he had been, 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


59 


Mr. Blank thought he had never seen such fathom- 
less, beautiful brown eyes as Lydia’s. Unconscious 
earnestness lit up her speaking face. 

That evening Mr. Blank spoke good bye to all, 
and at 2 a.m., was speeding toward New York to 
catch the steamship that was to bear him to Eng- 
land, en route for Norway. The image of Lydia 
Waring he bore with him, imprinted on his heart. 
But they never met again. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

Professor Cheval was more preoccupied than 
ever, after his conference with Dr. Waring. His 
active mind was busy planning foils for Quantrell’s 
designs on Moultrie. He was not disposed to stand 
by, impassively, an idle looker-on, and, without in- 
terference, see the youth fall blindly and helplessly 
into the net spread for him. 

“ He shall not suffer from the malicious persecu- 
tion of that unprincipled, revengeful scoundrel ! He 
shall not be singled out !” Cheval resolved. 

He, therefore, sent for Moultrie to come to Druid 
Hall, and when he arrived, first admonished him on 
no account to show any excitement at what he was 
about to reveal, but carefully control his feelings. 

Then he pointed out in a kindly voice, that his 
manly, straightforward confession of participation 
in the charivari, so unfortunate in its consequences, 
must necessarily work his dismissal, but added, that 
it did not follow that he had criminally disgraced 
himself, or that he had done more than to seriously 
violate discipline, and, for him to tell the truth in re- 


6o 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Terence to himself so candidly as he had, and his re- 
fusal to implicate any comrades, evidenced (in Che- 
val’s opinion) a moral courage that compelled him 
ito step outside the lines of strict official propriety, 
and assert, by a little friendly warning and friendly 
• action, the high esteem he held for him. 

He then narrated to the young man, whose aston- 
ishment was more than great, all that had tran- 
spired between the president and himself in his be- 
half, and imparted certain additional information he 
had collected, showing Quantrell’s fixed determina- 
tion to prosecute him before the courts. 

He impressed on Moultrie the absolute necessity 
-of inviolate secresy, so as not to betray himself in 
the least, nor put Quantrell on his guard, and pre- 
cipitate proceedings on that person’s part, and then 
advised him to quietly prepare quickly to leave 
town. 

“ Keep perfectly calm, and let no one surmise you 
know what I have told you,” was his parting ad- 
monition. 

After further discussion, Moultrie expressed his 
determination to go to his uncle, from whom he had 
a long standing invitation to make a visit. This 
uncle was a wealthy citizen of Colorado, engaged 
in real estate, mining, and live stock concerns. He 
was also prominently connected with territorial af- 
fairs officially, and sincerely loved the young man, 
believing he had much talent. And Moultrie could 
enter his employ as a clerk, he argued, and grow up 
in the business. 

Cheval thought the opening most propitious, and 
a load was lifted off his mind. 

Where his young friend could go to escape the 
clutches of Quantrell, had been matter of much 
worry with him. Now the road was clear, and the 
quicker Moultrie would take it the better. 

This he stated to him in terse, concise language, 
with considerable urgency, and it was decided that 
he should, that very evening, bring to Cheval’s room 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 6t 


various articles of clothing, and certain books he 
desired to take along, which Cheval would pack in 
one of his own trunks, and on the following day 
they would take the midnight train, quietly, to- 
gether, for St. Louis only, from which point, after 
transacting some business that called him there, 
Cheval would return to Cedar-Crest and Moultrie 
continue on to Colorado. This programme, it was 
thought, if kept secret, would throw Quantrell off 
the scent entirely, if anything could, and Moultrie 
would be safe beyond his reach before he Would 
know of his departure. It was a common thing (of 
the students in trouble, or seeking indulgences, to 
visit Cheval for advice. The question of funds foi* 
the journey agitated Moultrie more than the Pro- 
fessor imagined, and he, observing the boy’s looks, 
inquired the cause and urged him to speak out can- 
didly without reserve, saying this was no time for 
half confidences. 

Encouraged by his instructor’s kind earnestness, 
the young man suggested that perhaps his father 
had better be notified very early, so as to be sure 
and have the money he would require for expenses 
in hand in time, and yet, said he : 

“ If he disapproves the step, in his displeasure he 
may divulge the whole plan, by his actions, if not by 
his words, and then Quantrell will nab me sure and 
‘ my goose will be cooked.’ 

“ I am in great doubt how to proceed.” 

“ We have not yet come to that, my dear boy,” 
the professor interrupted quickly. 

“ Since you have broached the subject, however, 
we may as well consider it at once. I have asked 
you not to mince matters, and must of course also 
speak plainly and to the point myself.” 

“ All that I have said and done, and will say and 
do in this connection, is entirely on my own respon- 
sibility. I have confided in no one, yet, I presume I 
could safely trust implicitly to a dozen or more of 
your friends I might mention. I propose, however* 


62 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


in preference, to run the smallest minimum of risk 
necessary, and, therefore, would advise that you di- 
vulge to your father your proposed action and the 
reason for it, only at the very latest moment, and 
then in strict confidence and to him alone, say at 
bed time.” 

“ I had proposed to loan you a part of my salary 
which I have saved — there is more than what is 
needed for the trip — if your father could not raise 
the money on the spur of the moment.” 

The professor looked off through the window to- 
ward the blank wall of the church, and talked more 
rapidly, as he observed the large tears welling up in 
Moultrie’s eyes. 

“Your mother is a sweet, good mother, but alto- 
gether too nervous,” he added, “ to be told until it 
is all over, and at least too late for her agitation to 
defeat us. How would it do for her to take the 
early train next morning and follow you as far as 
St. Louis? You could lie over there a day, you 
know, and bid her good-by at leisure.” 

Moultrie’s heart was beating like a “ trip-ham- 
mer.” 

Now, reader, if you do not know what a “ trip-ham- 
mer” is, and how it beats, go to Webster’s dictionary, 
or to some “ trip-hammer ” boss, to learn — the space 
cannot be here spared to explain. 

“ Muster all the dominoes of the secret societies 
to kick me!” Moultrie mentally ejaculated, as he 
realized how meanly and cruelly unjust he had been 
in his feelings toward that dear, good old president 
of the college, and this noble professor. 

And he could hold out no longer. Here was this 
most excellent man, whom he had so grievously mis- 
judged, piling coals of fire on his head by his great 
kindness. 

All along, while he had supposed him a heartless 
Mentor, bent, in cold blood, on loading him with dis- 
grace, he was plotting how to rescue him from a 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 63 

baser fate, he had not even dreamed was threaten- 
ing. 

Pressing his handkerchief to his eyes with one 
hand, while he vainly tried to choke down the sobs 
his tumultuous feelings provoked, he clasped Cheval’s 
hand in his other, and said — 

“ How shamefully I have wronged you in my 
thoughts up to this very hour!” 

The hearty, responsive pressure spoke much more 
eloquently than words could, and for several mo- 
ments the ticking of the old clock on the antique 
mantel, and the sobs of the young man were all that 
broke the prevailing stillness. 

Very little, in fact, was said by either after this, 
aside from what was needed to settle on perfect con- 
cert of action, regarding final preparations for what 
was to prove the most memorable epoch in Moultrie 
De Kalb’s life. 

For, after leaving Cedar-Crest, his lines fell in 
strange places, and frequently he was environed by 
imminent danger, and more than a decade rolled 
by, freighted with many conspicuous events in the 
history of the world, and numerous adventures and 
vicissitudes, yet frequent successes, in his own life, be- 
fore he again saw his native village. 

And, he was numbered among those the populace 
call “ great” when the hand of unerring time re- 
corded that day. 

But we must not anticipate, as Fatty Forbush, 
now at our elbow, and as rotund in his pile of shekels 
and a goodly bank credit as he is in jolly avoir- 
dupois — as Fatty says, we must not be “ too 
previous.” 

The village had grown to an incorporated city, 
and all the principal streets w r ere paved and lined 
with handsome buildings, and thronged with many 
new and strange faces, when Moultrie finally did see 
it again. 

All that had occurred since meeting Cheval dazed 
Moultrie. His thoughts, under this proposed start- 


64 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


ling change, were bewildering. Now depressed, 
then buoyant. Misgiving and hope alternated. 

He could conceive of no degradation equal to that 
of being locked up in the county jail, a prisoner. 
Escape he must, and he trembled when he feared he 
could not, notwithstanding the kind professor. 

When, to evade Quantrell, he resolved on his 
midnight exit from Cedar-Crest, so secretly and so 
suddenly, his mind filled with a tempest of conflict- 
ing thoughts. And amaze, doubt, hope, fear, hesi- 
tancy, and anticipation battled for supremacy. 

Amid this wild tumult, like the blazing splendor 
of a planet dominating its surrounding satellites, an- 
other feeling shone ascendant. It was love ! Love 
for his Bertha ! Yes, notwithstanding Cheval’s in- 
junction to go home and stay there, there was one 
person he could not bear the idea of leaving without 
a fond farewell. 

He had not believed that such a wish could take 
such absorbing possession of him, until he was held 
in its thrall. 

But now he knezv one pair of beautiful gray eyes, 
that, peering through their long, dark lashes, looked 
like stars. One gentle voice and a certain soft little 
hand that, when he was fevered, felt so cool as it 
lay in his own. It dawned on him that he would 
be awfully lonely when he could not be where the 
tranquillity their presence always brought could be 
with him to assuage. 

“ I must and shall bid her good-bye !" he ex- 
claimed aloud, and then he echoed, “good-bye!" 

Oh ! so dolefully, and started in terror at the sound 
of his own voice. Casting, involuntarily, at the 
same moment, a forlorn and most woe-begone glance 
at the professor, whose eyes for the moment, chanced 
to be engaged (of course, unintentionally) in another 
direction. 

“Yes, perhaps it will be good-bye for good," 
Moultrie mutely added, despairingly. 

And he began, in a feverish, ab3enLminded, rapid 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB 65 

and incoherent way, to fold every thing wrong, and 
pack his effects in a topsy-turvy, random way, with- 
out any semblance of neatness or system, in Cheval’s 
trunk, a dismal expression seated on his handsome 
face. 

He was in Druid Hall, in Cheval’s bed-chamber, 
with doors securely locked and bolted to guard 
against intrusion. 

Then the professor, looking up from the book he 
was reading, saw the tears glistening in the young 
man’s eye, and noticed the hap-hazard, desperate 
way he was packing the trunk. He arose, took him 
by both arms, seated him in the nearest chair, and 
then removing every thing so untidily placed therein, 
leisurely repacked the trunk in proper order. 

Moultrie was in vain trying to repress his sobs. 

“ I don’t believe I’d hire you to drum for me,” 
said Cheval, good-naturedly, ignoring his tears. 

“ You would not do for a commercial traveler. 
Here’s a tack-hammer and a bottle of ink uncorked, 
reposing comfortably on your hand mirror with your 
white cambric handkerchiefs, and — holy Moses! 
what’s this? Your blacking brush between two 
shirts ! 

“And here, in this compartment, are your hair 
brush and these cuffs and collars, and a bottle of 
mucilage, open ! 

“ By the way, Moultrie,” he added, quickly, “ take 
this and go down to Osterhaus’ store, and buy a 
couple of those blue flannel shirts we so admired 
the other day, a pair of those riding boots, those with 
the blue tops, you know, and one of those broad- 
brimmed, cowboy hats. 

“You’ll need them before long. 

“ Better wash your face before you go, it looks as; 
red as a new-born babe’s. 

“Hurry now, my dear boy, and come straight 
back. Have the articles carefully wrapped.” 

And he handed him a banknote. 

JVEoultrie obeyed mechanically, ,B.ut his heart was 


66 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


not in the work he was bent on. The whole busi- 
ness, — to quote his favorite expression — seemed like 
a dream. Ouantrell’s attitude did not surprise him, 
while, on the other hand, the professor’s kindness 
actually dazed him. 

There was no use trying, however, he could not 
make up his mind to obey Cheval’s injunction to the 
letter, in the matter of strict secresy as to this mo- 
mentous move in his young life. 

He must, and would, see Bertha, he said over and 
over again to himself, even though he died for it. 

Surely she would not say anything, nor, by look 
or act, betray him ; and perhaps she would feel as 
sorry at his going away as he did. 

He hoped so, anyhow. 

Oh, yes ! 

How he did hope she would. 

“ And no one else would know anything about it,” 
he added to himself, “ she can keep a secret.” 

Not even his father and mother, until eleven 
o’clock at night, one hour only before his departure, 
for the professor had told him that he had met and 
quietly notified his father that at that time he would 
have a matter of great importance to communicate, 
and for him to expect him at his house, and be 
ready without fail to receive it, and under no cir- 
cumstances, to make known the fact that he would 
call at that late hour — not even to Mrs. DeKalb — 
as any suspicion on the part of any one, especially 
Quantrell, might prove disastrous and lamentable in 
the extreme. 

So what could be the harm thought Moultrie, if 
he called, ever so quietly and secretly, and said 
“ good-bye to — to — to Bertha.” 

There could be none, he insisted, so his mind was 
made up upon that point. 

Cheval had given Mr. De Kalb plainly to under- 
stand that, for the successful transaction of the 
important business he would have with him, only the 
seemingly unreasonable, at least unusual and um 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB 67 

seasonable hour he had named, when the whole 
village would be wrapped in slumber — could be 
safely set. 

He had, as he told Moultrie, carefully exacted a 
promise from the old gentleman to make no allusion 
whatever, in any shape, to any person, about the 
appointment, and had sent him off shaking his head 
and much mystified at the strange admonition. 

So much so indeed, that he carried his air of won- 
der and perplexity into his quiet, unostentatious 
home, and made his wife very nervous by his occa- 
sional, half suppressed mutterings. 

There had never been any reticence or deception 
between this simple, mutually confiding old couple 
heretofore, and the anxious interrogatories of the 
good mother, worried at the strange humor of her 
spouse, served only the more to bewilder him. 

Woman-like, she plied her questions with increased 
fervor, and with exhortation and denunciation drove 
the old gentleman half daft. 

Finally, his oft repeated reply to her increasingly 
persistent demands for a candid and full explana- 
tion of his unusual mood, elicited the odd reply : 

“All in good time, my dear, but upon my soul I 
don’t know what it is myself. But, all in good time, 
all in good time, you shall learn all , in good time.” 

At last the monotony of this unvarying declaration, 
multi-varying in accent and tone, accompanied, 
sometimes by assuring, sometimes by beseeching 
looks, settled an explanation in her mind. 

“ The old man is gone crazy !” 

Then came a new phase. 

She began eyeing him suspiciously. 

All the horrible stories of violence done by mad 
men against their most dearly beloved loomed up 
like a frightful nightmare before her. 

Her nervousness increased each moment, and she 
prepared to go to her brother’s house, on the village 
outskirts, to bring him and two stout farm hands to 
hold the gentleman, in case his malady took a violent 


68 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


turn. Delay was dangerous. She must go at once. 
But how? 

She talked to him patronizingly now, like a mother 
coaxing an obdurate and willful child, that can be 
conquered only by sugar-plums and sweet speech, 
and meanwhile put on her bonnet and shawl, look- 
ing at him sideways and bobbing her head as much 
as to say “ yes, it’s right.” In her fidgetiness she 
dropped her shawl pin, and, in stooping to pick it 
up, staggered like a drunken man. She grew very 
nervous and, although she smiled in a sickly manner, 
looked woful and scared. 

And he, in his turn, imagined her nervousness had 
taken an exceedingly serious direction. 

It had been a long time since she had spoken to 
him in that cooing way — quite a long time. And 
she looked as if afraid because she was doing it. 

But never before had she accompanied such words 
and tones with preparations for flight. 

“ For the life of him,” he could not understand it. 
“ What did it mean ? Had her recent sickness shat- 
tered her nerves, and produced temporary in- 
sanity ?” 

It was “ away back yonder,” long ago, the time 
when he folded her in his arms, affectionately, in re- 
sponse to her honeyed words, and ever and anon 
checked them with fervent kisses, that she had talked 
that way. 

And all along he had been a sort of avant courier 
of those who held that husbands should have no 
secrets from their wives, always first and loudest to 
proclaim it whenever the question came up. He 
was steadfast and impregnable in this position, and all 
the wealth of Christendom could not have tempted 
him to join a secret society. 

The idea was his religion, so deeply imbued and 
immovably rooted that he could not have become a 
club-man even to save his soul. 

The closer he eyed “ the partner of his bosom,” 
the more her alarm increased, and the more §he b& 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 69 


came convinced that some subtle and sudden influ- 
ence had made him insane. 

Then she conjured up every possible and impos- 
sible cause she could conceive of for such a lament- 
able condition. 

She thought of this thing, and that thing, and the 
other thing, but dismissed them all when, suddenly, 
her eyes became riveted on a photograph of Mrs. 
Poinsett and Bertha, — Bertha when a child of ten 
years — which hung over the mantel, and was a recent 
gift from that lady to Moultrie. 

There was the solution ! she instantly concluded, 
of her husband’s deplorable condition. 

When neighbors, that very morning, had turned 
up their noses at that picture, he had had a good word 
for it. When they had sneered, or railed at the 
originals, he had parried their vicious thrusts and 
sent them home “ piping mad,” because he would 
not, without protest, listen to their unchristain, un- 
generous, and ofttimes senseless and grievously un- 
just comments. Now she knew what picture the re- 
marks referred to. 

She had almost invariably coincided with her 
visitors, and verbally, by nods, and other mute signs 
had encouraged them. And, furthermore, he had 
dared to exchange greetings with Mrs. Poinsett on 
the street, and even stop and talk to her pleasantly, 
although the husbands of other ladies had avoided, 
or at best, only coldly nodded to her, when crossing 
her path. 

All this passed, rapidly, through her mind and 
seemed a satisfactory solution of the situation. 

“ Yes, she is the cause !” she said. “ And he en- 
dorses her ! Oh ! how could she so get the upper- 
hand of all of us !” 

Yes, she is the “ cause" and to think that he should 
have the imprudence to “ stick up for her ‘agin ’ us 
all,” was crushing. 

That he should have the audacity to espouse a 
** cause ” she condemned, an audacity he had not 


70 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


dared before, or had been sufficiently politic to con- 
trol for so many years, astounded her. 

It was an affront she had never before received 
from him, 710 , never ! And it was too unendurable 
even to think of. 

Others had differed with her, differed seriously, 
and broken friendships, or mutual coolness had re- 
sulted in several instances. 

Even Moultrie and she had had bitter disputes, in 
which sneers and invective and ridicule had mingled ; 
for both were quick tempered and liable to be in- 
discreetly provoked, and say things they afterwards 
regretted. 

But never before had her husband opposed her, in. 
anything, save by docile protestation, or mildly de- 
preciating expostulation. 

Yes, that woman, a widow , too, whom all her 
friends, and especially all the members of her sewing 
circle, had so unanimously condemned, she had done 
it all ! 

“ He ain’t a bit right !” she exclaimed dolefully, 
shaking her head disconsolately. “ Not a bit right !” 
and then she eyed him askance, but by a supreme 
effort, wonderful for her, kept back the rising tears 
of pity and indignation, that wanted to well up and 
overflow from her aching heart. 

“ That pesky, sly widow Poinsett, with all her fine 
airs, has just gone and bewitched him ; so she has.” 

And then, with a woman’s tact, and a woman’s wit 
and cunning, she resorted to a woman’s strategy. 

She looked at him lovingly, more lovingly than 
ever. And told him, in compassionate tones, that 
she “didn’t think he was feeling well.” She “was 
sure he wasn’t, and she ought to go for a doctor.” 
Then nervously hastened her preparations for de- 
parture. 

“ Where are you going ?” he said, trembling from 
head to foot. 

His agitation as he asked this question increased 
her alarm. 


"THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. Jl 

“It’s a cornin’! It’s a cornin’! Heaven help 
him !” she shrieked, and then rushed wildly through 
the door, colliding with Moultrie, just entering, and 
sending him head first off the verandah into a pretty 
flower plot, herself recoiling and falling backward 
into her husband’s arms, as he fortunately issued at 
the moment, hastily, from the house, close at her 
heels. 

“ Please don’t run away from me,” he pleaded, pite- 
ously. 

“There, there, there! Everything will come out 
all right. We will soon know what it all means.” 

Moultrie picked himself up, dazed and filled with 
the wildest apprehension. As he entered the house, 
he saw his good father with a frightened look stand- 
ing over his mother, who was seated in her old-fash- 
ioned, high-backed rocker, her own particular chair, 
and his father was talking to her in a crooning ac- 
cent Moultrie had never heard him talk before. 

But good gracious ! what was that strange head- 
gear ? Alas ! The good man had essayed to dash 
some water into his wife’s face to revive her, and the 
little cedar bucket had slipped from his nerveless 
grasp and landed, upside down, on her devoted head. 
And there it was. How cute looking. Fitting fully 
as snugly, if not quite as becomingly, as the dear old 
gentleman’s Sunday high hat fitted his head. He 
was oblivious, however, of her comical appearance, 
and was saying, caressingly : 

“ Be quiet, dear, be quiet ! No harm shall befall 
you.” 

More of this reassuring talk he reiterated re- 
peatedly. 

Moultrie tenderly removed the bucket and fixed a 
pillow for her head and back, and she looked, oh, so 
woful, limp and dazed. The water his father had 
dashed on her face had saturated her dress bosom, 
and deep lace collar, and taken all the starch out of 
them. 

Her hair was drenched and disheveled, and hung 


72 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


in a ludicrous way, all on one side, lending a crooked, 
awry look to her terrified face, usually so placid. 

The incident created consternation among the spy- 
ing neighbors. For more than one had witnessed 
the out-door event of the scene, and that Moultrie 
had run away from home, after his mother’s wild 
assault on him, and from which she had been, with 
difficulty, dragged off, by a too indulgent father ; 
later on, came to be, with all the village, the accepted 
explanation of his sudden disappearance at midnight, 
and his continued absence. 

His parents were, meanwhile, all along in blissful 
ignorance of the existence of such an impression. 
And Cheval took no pains to correct it, deeming it 
better to let it pass, as, should Quantrell know the 
real reason of Moultrie’s departure, he might con- 
coct all kinds of annoyances for Mr. DeKalb, and 
make his continued sojourn in Cedar-Crest not “ a 
bed of roses.” 

A little after nine o’clock P. M., Moultrie started 
out at a brisk walk, for Mrs. Poinsett’s cottage. 

Si Quantrell was lying in wait when the young 
man entered the gate opening into the pretty front 
yard. 

The night was still, but not uncomfortably cool, 
and the windows of the cozy parlor were raised al- 
though the curtains were drawn closely. 

Moultrie thought he had arranged quite secretly 
to make this visit, but his excited look while going 
there at an earlier hour to make the appointment, 
had been observed by the keen eyes of his arch 
enemy, Quantrell. 

Mrs. Poinsett’s colored servant, Dinah, who had 
been reared in their Southern home, and had been 
nurse for Bertha, when that young lady was an in- 
fant, was in ear-shot in an adjoining room, when 
young De Kalb had, earlier, announced his intended 
call, in a low voice, and after Bertha had said : 

“ Very well, I will tell Mamma.” 

Dinah’s mind had filled with queer forbodings, as 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE t)E KALB. J\ 

she peered cautiously and saw Moultrie seize the 
young “ Missis,” hand in both his own and kiss it 
passionately, while he plead, in tremulous tones, for 
her to say nothing whatever about it to her mother 
nor anyone else, but meet him alone, alleging that 
the most important business of his life was the occa- 
sion of the visit, and great disaster would surely be- 
fall him if anyone knew anything about it. 

Bertha was amazed at his earnestness. 

“ What the debbel dat mean,” exclaimed Dinah, 
sotto voce , after retreating precipitately to the back 
porch. 

“ I dunno much, clar to goodness I don’t, but I 
reckon dars’ somefing in de ar not jes’ right, when 
young dismessed uns from de college acts dat way. 
Can’t pull de wool over dis chile though, jes’ you 
make shuah ob dat !” 

Now what dat Mister Maltese Scalb want dat 
time o’night wid my little missis ? 

Reckon he like to slope wid her, if he git de chance. 
Reckon he won’t git it though. 

“ Wonder whar he spect he take her? Howsum- 
ever though he am good lookin’ and highist tone, he 
ain’t gwine to take her no whar ’less I go too. 

“ Poor little baby ! what for she want to run 
away ? 

“ Deed to goodness dis is a strange worl ! dats de 
forf gal runned away wid a man dis year. When is 
dey gwine ter stop ? 

“ I does hope she won’t go. Deed I does ! 

“ Poor little missis ! she is a fool-like gal sure nuff, 
sometimes, anyhow. But dat’s all right, isn’t we all 
fools sometimes ? 

“ But if she meet dat Mister Maltese Scalb — how- 
sumever he may be — I says he maybe a gemman — 
I don’t say he isn’t — I don’t say nuffin agin him. 

“ Bless me, Honey, I don’t say nuffin agin no- 
body — 

“ But if she meet him dat time ob night, I will be 


74 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


dar, too, a brack angel, hoberin’ aroun’ wid my wings 
to pertect her ! 

“ Though I ain’t got no wings, eigh ! nornuffin’ to 
look like a angel wid— yah! yah!! yah!!! 

“ But you’ll see me dar, yes, yo’ will, shuah !” 

And with this virtuous resolution uppermost in 
her mind, shortly after Moultrie left, the faithful 
servant and ex-slave sallied forth with a basket on 
her arm, directing her footsteps towards the business 
center of the town. 

As ill luck would have it, Si Quantrell met her in 
a shady spot, a little way down the street. 

Dinah was an excellent laundress. 

All along, Mrs. Poinsett had allowed her to take 
in such work as she could manage, without neglect 
of her regular household duties. 

And she was also an expert with the needle, and 
had launched somewhat extensively into fancy shirt- 
making for the students and dudes of the town, out 
of which she had already realized a snug little sum, 
which she had very discreetly laid aside. 

“ To go to housekeeping for myself,” she had said, 
“ when missis is gone to heben, or is done got tired 
ob de ole niggah.” 

“ Good morning, Dinah,” said Quantrell, in his 
most pleasant tone. “ You look as neat as a pic- 
ture, and you are the person I have been longing to 
see. 

“ I want some fine shirts made, and there is no 
one in town can make them as well as you, and if 
you will take the job and do it well, I’ll pay you lib- 
erally and make you a nice present besides.” 

“ I alius does my jobs well, Mr. Quantell,” she 
replied, with a proud toss of her head. 

“ Yes, I know you do, Dinah, and that is why I 
have come to you with this one. 

“ If you have plenty of time to spare I want you 
to do it — provided Mrs. Poinsett has no objection. 

“You must not let it interfere with your other 
work for her, you know.” 


THE FLIGHT OF MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


“ Lor’ bless you ! it ain’t gwine to do dat. Missis 
lets me do all I gits to do, an’ I doesn’t undertake 
more’n I can get trough wid. 

“ When does yer want ’em ?” 

“Just as soon as the goods arrive from St. Louis. 
By the way, I will have the largest stock of dress- 
goods, when they do get here, that I ever carried, 
and the finest, too ; you can take your pick. 

“ How are your mistress and the young lady ?” 

“ Dey’s all well, I thank’e.” 

“ I see that young scapegrace, Moultrie De Kalb, 
is very attentive to Miss Bertha,” he said, looking 
straight at her ; then added with a disapproving 
shake of his head : 

“ She is too good a girl, Dinah, to be fooled with 
so by a grand rascal like him. You’d better keep 
on the lookout before it becomes too serious. 

“ Mrs. Poinsett don’t like me, I know, one bit, but 
for all that, I wouldn’t let a lone widow like she is 
come to harm if I could prevent it.” 

Dinah distended her eyes, opened her mouth, like 
a crater, as though in a great hurry to speak, and 
nodded approval. 

“She ought to lookout for herself,” he continued. 
“ He is disgraced, and not alone has he been kicked 
out of college, but, I can tell you, worse will come 
to him, and he will be sent to jail in a very few 
days. 

“ He will find he can’t raise disgraceful rows, in 
the dead of night, and destroy property without 
being made an example of.” 

“ Is yo’ shuah dey’ll put him in de jail?” she ex- 
claimed in a protesting way. 

For notwithstanding her misgivings she really 
liked De Kalb very much. 

“ Oh, there is no doubt of it !” he answered. 

“The evidence against him is pretty nearly all 
ready and it will happen , sooner than you or any 
one else looks for. He’s a bad egg ! 

“ Mrs. Poinsett better just ask him not to come 


76 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


there any more, unless she wants to have it said 
about her that ‘ birds of a feather flock together/ 
-and him a jail bird, don’t you see ? 

Dinah did see. 

And furthermore, the promise of a new dress had 
'done much to win her. She thought it very kind of 
iSi Quantrell to give the warning when he must know 
how “ onery ” they all considered him at the college 
as well as at the cottage. 

Surely, she thought, he must be aware of how 
thoroughly he was despised by mother and daugh- 
ter. 

“ You is a true friend, shuah !” she exclaimed em- 
phatically. 

“ He’s cornin’ dar to-night an’ is goin’ to see de 
young missus alone, I heard him ax her. 

“ I’ll jes’ watch fo’ de land — I will, Mr. Quantel !” 

“ Coming to see her alone — Miss Bertha — and to- 
night, eh !” he exclaimed, with a strange look. 

“ He’s getting along right pert with the foolish — 
I mean thoughtless and innocent young lady.” 

“ Foolish am de name !” interrupted Dinah with 
spirit. “ Foolish am de name, Mr. Quantel, and so 
am innocent — innocent am de name, too ! 

“ Dat gal am de innercentest and foolisherest gal 
I eber seed ! but I’ze dar, and Mr. Maltese Scalb 
better not go fer to try any pranks wid her. 

“ I tole yo’ so I does, an’ I’ze talkin’ I is !” 

Dinah’s looks and gestures were full of unmistak- 
able earnestness. The very idea of her young mis- 
tress being in the slightest peril made her bustle, 
and Quantrell’s words had caused her to put her 
war paint on, and put it on thick. For she believed 
all he said. 

And he knew how to follow the matter up and, 
by imposing several empty flatteries which were ac- 
cepted in full faith, won her completely over to his 
views and pumped her dry. 

Their conversation, all together, had lasted only 
Jifteen minutes, and when they separated he had re- 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 

ceived her promise not to repeat it nor allude to the 
subject, not even to Mrs. Poinsett nor Bertha. 

She wondered at his desire for such profound 
secresy but asked for no reason. 

Eespecially was she enjoined to watch over Bertha 
in her intercourse with Moultrie, and report to him 
from time to time what passed. 

The two parted with a very exalted opinion on 
Dinah’s part of Quantrell’s good qualities and a firm 
conviction that he was indeed a sincere friend of the 
Poinsett family, after all, herself included, no matter 
what any body else might think or say to the con- 
trary, and notwithstanding Mrs. Poinsett heartily 
disliked him. 


CHAPTER VI. 

MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 

DURING that afternoon Fatty Forbush, accom- 
panied by a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular student, 
whose sobriquet in the college halls was “ Hercules,” 
called three times for Moultrie at his father’s house, 
and scoured the village in every direction, calling at 
every probable haunt of his, in vain search for him. 

He was nowhere to be found. Had they thought 
to call at Professor Cheval’s rooms they would have 
surprised him in the midst of his preparations for 
stealthy flight. But there was the last place they 
would be likely to look for him. 

They then, in a fit of mingled desperation and dis- 
gust, left a note at his home and another in his box 
in the post-office, urging that he meet them, with- 
out a moment’s delay, on important business of press- 
ing moment to himself in particular, and designating 
a rendezvous. 


MOtJLTRIE DE KALB. 


78 

Meanwhile Moultrie was in Druid Hall, as the 
reader knows, secretly preparing for his clandestine 
departure. 

That he would receive one or both of the notes 
and be on hand, promptly, at the appointed place, 
both Forbush and Hercules did not for an instant 
doubt. 

They were there and, after several hours of 
impatient waiting, Fatty walked again to Moul- 
trie’s house, while Hercules remained at the rendez- 
vous to be on hand if he came. 

Judge of Fatty’s surprise when, in a mystified and 
nervous manner entirely unlike himself, Moultrie’s 
father said his son was not there, and had not been 
for hours, and he could not imagine where he 
could be. 

“ The note was still at the house and would be 
placed in his hands immediately on his return,” he 
added. 

Moultrie had never before been hard to find, and 
therefore more non-plussed than ever, “ Fatty ” re- 
joined “ Hercules ” and both repaired to the post- 
ofifice, to find that the other note was gone. 

Moultrie, much agitated, but with a fruitless 
attempt to appear as unconcerned as usual, had 
taken it from his box, on bis way to Osterhaus’ store, 
which was next door, and had forgotten to open 
and read it, but had carelessly thrust it into his coat 
pocket, never learning its character until several 
hours after the time was passed up to which Fatty 
and Hercules had written they would wait for him. 
Of course it was then too late to comply with their 
wishes, and furthermore, Moultrie was so^en grossed 
in his preparations for flight that he did not con- 
sider he could hazard any time to anything else. 

He therefore let any effort he might have put 
forth to make amends, by repairing to the rendez- 
vous even too late, go by default, and again thrust- 
ing the note into his coat pocket, gave the subject 
no further attention or thought. 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 79 


To make matters worse, during the hurried tea 
hour his father entirely forgot the other note, and 
this evidence of the double earnestness of his friends, 
Moultrie was not permitted to weigh. 

Had it been otherwise, his subsequent course of 
action would have been changed. So at least he be- 
lieved, when, later on, he came suddenly to under- 
stand the full meaning of the situation, and the desire 
and design of Fatty, Hercules and their confeder- 
ates. 

On the eventful evening in question, he called on 
Bertha, as per appointment, at half-past nine o’clock. 

She sat waiting and mystified, on a little chair in 
the cozy recess of their pretty bay window, that 
looked out from the east side of the parlor, toward 
the center of the town. 

Cedar-Crest had, as I have intimated heretofore, a 
public square. 

Most small towns have. 

Around its four sides were grouped its principal 
business marts, and the four streets they were on, in 
their continuations, constituted the principal resid- 
ence thoroughfares of the place. 

West street on which the Poinsett cottage stood, 
about four blocks from the square, rose gradually as 
it receded from that small mercantile center, until 
reaching the cottage, from whence it stretched on for 
half a mile over a level plain to where it ended at the 
turnpike that connected two other towns to the 
right and left of Cedar-Crest, respectively. 

It was, therefore, one of the principal highways for 
farmers coming to market. 

Back of and parallel with it ran the railroad, the 
high embankment of which, along the south front of 
Cedar-Crest, from the west side eastward tc a point 
nearly reaching the Poinsett cottage, looked like the 
outer face of a huge earth rampart, such as loomed 
up all around Vicksburg, and Atlanta, and Yorktown 
and Richmond, and other cities, when they were be- 
sieged, during the war of the Rebellion, 


8o 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


A person walking upon this embankment during 
the night, unless the sky was completely shut out 
from view by storm-pent clouds, could be distinctly 
discerned in the starlight, and, standing out in such 
bold relief, was not hard of identification, especially 
if addicted to any idiosyncrasy of gait or posture, or 
in any way peculiar in figure. 

Moultrie lived in the southeast corner of the town, 
and in going to Mrs. Poinsett’s, to save distance took 
this embankment. A bounding motion that marked 
his gait when he walked fast made him conspicuous, 
and frequently his friends had said they could dis- 
tinguish him as far as they could see, “ if he was go- 
ing in a hurry.” 

He was going in a hurry that night, and Si 
Quantrell, from the steps of his store, descried him 
against the rich blue sky, thickly studded with shim- 
mering stars. 

“ Aha ! my precious lad !” he muttered with a 
sardonic smile ; 

“ I know your little game ! You’re nearly to the 
end of your rope, and you’ll reach it soon, with a 
sudden back-pull. Sooner, much sooner than you 
expect ! 

“ What will you do then ?” 

“ Aha ! I’ll be even with you, when that happens, 
and the old man, and the old woman too. The 
young fool hasn’t had sense enough to know that 
that is the very worst road he could take, if he 
wanted to deceive anyone as to where he was going.” 

Seeing a group of men standing a few steps below, 
he approached, with a mean expression on his face, 
and said, in a very innocent manner. 

“ Boys who can that be walking on the embank- 
ment at this hour of night ? 

“ Some self important student, I’ll bet five dollars, 
up to some mean trick, as usual.” 

“ Well I know who it is,” spoke one of the men,” 
(the group were all town rowdies) — “ I can tell him 
from a thousand ! He’s that young pup De Kalb !” 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 8 1 


“ That’s so ! That’s him, that’s him /” echoed 
the others. 

“ I believe you are right !” exclaimed Quantrell, 
after a pretended closer scrutiny : “ I tell you what 

it is, boys, this town has stood enough from those 
young dogs, and I’d give something worth having, if 
I could catch one of ’em. That fellow over there is 
up to some devilment, you can bet your boots ! He’s 
either going to smash someone’s property, or he is 
plotting something with some silly, simpering fool of 
a girl.” 

Then, turning to a big, brawny glazier, who ob- 
tained but little work, because he was constantly 
more or less intoxicated, he continued. 

“ What d’ye say, Scotty, if we follow and catch 
him in the act ?” 

“ No thank’ee, Mr. Quantrell — ’’the glazier replied 
— “ I don’t feel like follerin’ anyone to-night ’cept 
it be bed, I was a just a thinkin’ of goin’ home when 
you kem up. 

“ The more glass them fellers shivers the better it 
is fur me ye know. Howsomever, I does feel sorry 
fur you’ns what has the glass shivered.” 

Luke Hindman, a much smaller man, volunteered 
to go with Quantrell, if he would “ call it a job to be 
paid light if nuthin’ come of it and handsome if 
they caged the bird.” He knew Quantrell hated 
Moultrie. 

A private conference between the two ensued, an 
agreement was made, and Quantrell handing Scotty 
fifty cents, “ to set up the drinks,” enjoined secrecy 
(which was promised) and, himself going hurriedly 
out West street, sent Hindman up the embankment 
with instructions to meet him in the vacant lot just 
beyond Widow Poinsett’s house. 

“ I say Si’,” said Scotty, overtaking him, and as- 
suming an air of equality not exhibited in the pres- 
ence of the others. 

“ Call it a dollar, so the boys can get more’n a 
taste, I’ll make it up som.e£ime.” 


82 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Quantrell hesitated a moment, then, evidently be- 
lieving it the best he could do, hastily took back the 
half and gave Scotty a whole dollar. They then 
separated, Scotty and his party going to a saloon in 
the German quarter. 

Moultrie DeKalb hastened out the embankment, 
and climbing a fence hurried across the vacant 
ground just beyond the Poinsett cottage, emerging 
on West street. Down this he turned, until the 
front gate was reached, through which he entered, 
after a glance around that seemed to convince him 
no one was lurking about. 

Reaching the front door he lightly rapped, and it 
was almost immediately opened by Bertha. 

A gentle squeeze of the soft little hand, and Moul- 
trie entered, the fine wondering eyes of the graceful 
girl looking into his agitated and expressive face, as 
if to read thereon the meaning of his excitement. 

“ Well ! Sir Knight, are you suddenly attacked 
with an overweening desire for adventure, that you 
must make such an unusual engagement, or what is 
the matter with you ?” she remarked, half laughingly, 
half seriously, as she resumed her seat, and pointed 
to another for him. 

“ I have but a few moments in which to tell you,” 
he began nervously, pushing his chair toward her, 
“ and you will be greatly surprised. I have con- 
fided in you, Bertha, more than in anyone else in the 
world in coming here, much more !” he emphasized. 

She gave a little nervous twitch, and pushed her 
chair back slightly. 

“ And now I am going away, I don’t know for 
how long,” he added desperately. 

“ Going away!” she exclaimed, in a voice that 
sounded like an outcry. 

“Yes, going away,” he repeated, dejectedly. “I 
have known it myself but a very little while.” 

And then he told her everything, detailing in full 
the kind offices of the friend, “ a Nature’s noble- 
man,” he said, who had enlightened him on all the 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 83 

points he had just related to her. One little item in 
the whole business, this good friend’s name, he must 
keep a sacred secret, even from her,” he added. 

“ Little item !” she interjected, laying her hand on 
his arm. “ Why, Moultrie, such a friend as that is 
the biggest item in the world ! Too big to be called 
an item !” 

“ I agree with you, Bertha, heartily,” he replied. 

“ I only meant that in all the history of this un- 
fortunate affair, which is going to take me so far 
away from — from — from Cedar-Crest and — and my 
mother and father, whom I may not see again for 
years : in all the words it has taken to tell what 
has led to this those that would pronounce his name 
are a small item, that’s what I mean, Bertha.” He 
longed to add, “ darling,” but had not the courage. 

He hardly knew himself what he did mean. 

It was a clear case of, “ thou art so near and yet 
so far.” After he was on the cars, rushing west- 
ward, how he wished he had said darling. 

His heart ached at the mere thought of leaving 
her, and he wanted to, but could not, dare not, tell 
her so. 

“ Gracious goodness ! but you have taken me by 
surprise !” she suddenly exclaimed, intensely. 

“ So you are going away off to Colorado ! So far, 
and so unexpectedly, what will people think?” 

“ People may think what they please, but they 
will know nothing except that I am gone,” was his 
quick interruption, defiantly. 

“ I told you, you remember, that even my parents 
will know nothing of it, that is, from me. 

“ The pro I mean (confusedly) the kind friend 

who has saved me from real disgrace will tell them, 
after I am a safe distance away, and they will follow, 
or at least mother will, and overtake meat St. Louis, 
“ where I will await their coming.” 

“ You really think you are doing the very best by 
going, do you, Moultrie ?” she asked in a strained, 
choking tone, not looking at him, her little hands 


8 4 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


clasped on her lap, her shoulders drooping, and pain 
plainly visible in her sweet face. 

“ The very best,” he replied, in a low, concentrated 
voice, looking wistfully at her. Then, in a louder 
tone : 

“ I have thought it all over, thought of how I 
might get out of going, and a million ideas, it seemed 
to me, came trooping through my mind ; but there 
was nothing else, no other course suggested half as 
promising, none with any promise of escape, what- 
ever, in fact, presented itself. So I must say good- 
bye, now” he added, looking at his watch. “ You’ll 
think of me when I am gone and answer my letters, 
won’t you, Bertha?” pleadingly. “ I shall write to 
you often.” 

She put her hand in his, and did not step back 
when he moved a little nearer, and bending forward 
looked into her down-turned face. 

She merely trembled a little, just a little, that was 
all, and her eyes grew misty. 

“ Bertha !” he cried, with passionate vehemence, 
impulsively drawing her close to him with sudden 
emotion, and throwing his arms about her graceful 
figure, while he showered rapid and hot kisses on 
her hair, her eyes, and her lips. 

“ I cannot go if you wont promise me this ! I did 
not know how hard it would be to put such a long 
distance, for such a long and uncertain time, between 
us ! I did not knowhow sincerely I loved you, until 
I came to realize I would have no little Bertha to 
meet and talk with almost every day, as I have met 
and talked with you !” 

She placed her hands on his — clasped behind her 
—and trembling from head to feet, made a poor, 
weak, little effort to unfold his arms entwined about 
her, but, as he resisted, she gave it up in a helpless, 
yielding way. 

Again he bent down and warmly kissed her parted 

lips- 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUANTRELL. 85 

“ We are too young, Moultrie, to talk of love, you 
and I,” she protested. 

“ I am sorry you are going, and I will answer your 
letters, for I do like you very much, and if I can 
keep you out of mischief,” she looked up with a little 
smile, “ by my letters, as I have sometimes by my 
talk, I will be happier — happier !” she repeated with 
a quick, rich blush at his interpretation of her mean- 
ing ; and then quickly added : 

“ Because I will have done some good, checked a 
friend from thoughtlessly and needlessly inflicting 
some one with some unintentional harm.” 

There were tears in her eyes now, as she looked 
up. Then, with sudden change of tone, “Now, let 
me go, Moultrie ! This is too much ! See what a 
sermon you have made me preach !” 

“ You must sit down at once !” and she made an- 
other fruitless but more determined endeavor to free 
herself. 

“ Give me one sweet kiss!” he cried. “Just one, 
Bertha, of your own free will, to show, you know, 
that you really are sorry I am going !” 

But she flashed back. 

“Not I!” 

And grew real angry as she tugged at his arms in 
vain efforts to release herself. 

“ For shame !” she exclaimed. “Let me go! I 
should think you had had enough !” 

But he had not had one hundredth part enough. 

Looking at her reproachfully, 

With a deep sigh, he untwined his arms and re- 
signedly seated himself. 

Her eyes were directed toward the curtained win- 
dow. Her attitude was that of one listening. 

Suddenly, with a look of supreme terror, she gave 
a little cry, and shook as if stricken with a chill. 

Leaning forward, with eyes distended, her gaze 
became riveted, like one spell-bound with horror, on 
the curtains that seemed gently swaying in the 
breeze, 


86 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


“ What is it ?” questioned Moultrie in alarm, 
springing instantly to his feet, and startled almost 
out of his senses at her deathlike paleness and the 
wild look in her eyes. 

“ There !” she gasped, faintly, pointing toward the 
window. “ S-o-m-e — o-n-e !” She had seen a human 
hand. 

The “ some one ” was, in tone, sepulchral. 

DeKalb’s hair rose on end, in perfect cadence 
with the enunciation of each long drawn out letter. 

Bertha could have coined ducats innumerable had 
she been able, in any histrionic role, to reproduce 
before critical and appreciative audiences the same 
tone, pose and expression. 

But she was no actress, in any sense. 

Had she been, with her part of that fear-inspiring 
situation represented, she could have electrified the 
world, completely overshadowing all the great stage 
celebrities of the day by her transcendent genius. 

She could not act , however, and Moultrie knew 
the explanation of her agitation was something sub- 
stantial, real. 

He was no coward, and quickly recovering from 
his sudden shock, he hastened to the window, Bertha 
following, all her recent rosy blushes supplanted by 
a blanched, whitened face, and the just before mild, 
sweet eyes, glaring wildly with inquiry and terror. 

“ It’s me, honey !” Dinah exclaimed, as Moultrie 
flung aside the curtains. “ Doan you got skeered, 
now ! 

“ Dar was someone heah, right heah, under de 
winder, missus. He run’d away whin I cum roun’ 
de house connah, jes dis momen.” 

“ Who could it have been ?” said Moultrie, in very 
manifest alarm. 

“ Oh ! Heaven only knows!” ejaculated Bertha. 

“ How I do wish you had not come !” then, apol- 
ogetically, and in a softer tone, “ you could have 
written, you know, Moultrie,” and with a look of 


MOULTRIE IS RESCUED FROM QUAtfTRELL. 87 

inexpressible despair and shame she wept disconso- 
lately. 

“ I will stay !” he said, resolutely. 

“ The miserable sneak that was just now hiding 
here, shall not say I ran away from him! I will stay 
and settle with the cowardly sneak for this !” 

Then turning to Dinah, who stood leaning in at 
the open window, her face a comical picture of won- 
derment, he said : 

‘‘You know, Dinah, that Miss Bertha cannot do 
anything she would be ashamed of!” 

“ Bress you, Massa Maltese, she am a angel, 
she am ! 

“ I’ze been heah all the bressed ebenin an’ I’ze 
heyard all your nonsense, an’ it’s all right.” 

There is no telling how long she would have gone 
on in this vein, had she not been interrupted by 
Bertha, over whose expressive face came another and 
a different look of alarm. 

“You must not stay, Moultrie!” she cried. “If 
you really care for me, you will go. For Heaven 
sake, do not fail ! Go ! Oh Go, Go, Go !” 

They were now, for a moment, interrupted by the 
shrill whistle of a locomotive that was signaling the 
approach of a train with that fantastic series of dis- 
tressful sounds that so frequently happen when the 
pipes are obstructed. 

Bertha’s face grew a trifle paler. Moultrie looked 
at his watch mechanically. 

“ That is a freight engine,” he said. 

“ How long before the passenger train ?” she asked. 

“ Half an hour,” he answered. 

Dinah ventured to say : 

“ I reckon dat wasn’t no ’spectable pussen at de 
winder ; dar’s tramps aroun’ all de time. Dey’ll 
cotch it if dey try to steal anything heah !” 

“ Then hurry to the depot, Moultrie !” said Bertha, 
not heeding Dinah’s remark. 

Moultrie, however, had heeded it, and like a 


83 


MOULTRIE IvE KALB. 


drowning man catching at a straw, he accepted it as 
Dinah divined he would. 

“If it should turn out otherwise and anything 
should happen, will you make her write to me, so I 
can come straight back, Dinah ?” he asked, entreat- 
ingly. 

“ To be sure, Massa Maltese, I will,” she answered. 

“Very well,” he said. “Then I will first look 
over the premises outside thoroughly, and afterward 
go to the depot.” 

And, with a few hasty, spasmodic incoherencies, 
as he tried to brave the situation heroically, he 
walked the room with a most desperate and ineffect- 
ual attempt at coolness and unconcern. 

Finally, gathering himself with all his strength in 
a futile attempt to smile assuringly, he seized Bertha’s 
trembling hand, and held it a moment in his own. 
He dare not ask her to kiss him, while Dinah’s big 
eyes were looking on, then waved a good-bye to the 
faithful negress, and hurried away. 

Going by the route he had come, he was soon on 
the railroad embankment walking rapidly. 

Cheval was already at the depot, having stated 
the situation fully to Mr. De Kalb and his wife. 

Mrs. De Kalb declared she would order “ the 
young scamp back home,” and if he didn’t return she 
would go on to his Uncle’s, her brother’s, with him. 

The professor, standing on the lonely platform of 
the depot, thought he heard an altercation up the 
track, but could not, at first, distinguish the voices. 

He listened attentively, and satisfied he was not 
mistaken, walked in that direction. As he neared 
the parties he distinctly heard Si Quantrell protest- 
ing himself a magistrate, and expounding on the 
majesty of the law and the awful crime of resistance 
to its officers, and then, clear in the night air (in 
answer to something indistinct said by an unknown 
voice), rang from Moultrie the words : 

“ Don’t touch me with your foul hands ! Mr. 
Quantrell has hold of me and that is enough !” 


Moultrie is rescued from quantrell. 89 

u Quantrell has hold of Moultrie ? impossible !” 
thought the professor, and yet surely his senses could 
not so deceive him. He looked at his watch and 
saw by its illuminated face that the train would 
arrive or rather depart in just fifteen minutes. 

The talk of the disputants was now distinct and 
undoubted and they were approaching. 

The professor’s blood began to boil, and he has- 
tened his footsteps. 

Cetainly Moultrie and himself would be enough 
for Quantrell and his companion whomever he was. 

Just then he heard a low outcry, and an oath from 
Quantrell, and it was very evident a scuffle was going 
on. He quickened his pace, and soon saw dintinctly 
seven human figures, two or three of whom seemed 
to be gagging and binding another, and one was 
hurrying down the grade toward him. 

A close look disclosed it to be Moultrie, hatless. 
Cheval stopped him, and in a quick spoken, brief 
explanation, the young man told how he had been 
to the Poinsett cottage, how he had told all to Miss 
Bertha, how they had been frightened by the noise 
at the window and how, while hurrying down the 
R. R. track he had been waylaid and seized by 
Quantrell and Hindman, whom he at first supposed 
to be tramps, and how Quantrell had arrested him 
for alleged trespass, but had shown no warrant. 

He had intended to come along quietly to the 
depot, he said, where he believed Quantrell would 
have to release him. 

Suddenly they were surrounded by masked men 
in costume, and he heard the challenge adopted by 
his college society, during and since the recent 
troubles, and to which he had promptly responded, 
where upon Hindman was knocked down (as he 
showed fight), and Quantrell was seized, bound and 
gagged. 

Just at this moment a masked person overtook 
them, spoke some words in Latin to which Moultrie 


90 


MOULTRIE BE KALB. 


made a reply, upon which he was handed his hat, and 
the other party turned and ran back. 

It was Hercules in disguise. Grand, big Her- 
cules ! 

Cheval and Moultrie reached the depot just as the 
train arrived and got away without any further 
trouble. 

As the cars passed the Poinsett’s, Bertha stood at 
the window of her bed chamber with a lamp in one 
hand, while she waved her handkerchief, or rather 
a huge towel, with the other. Further on, to the 
other side of the railroad, in a clump of forest trees, 
bordering the plain and lying east of Cedar-Crest, a 
bright fire was blazing, around which were grouped 
twenty or more grotesquely attired masqueraders. 

Moultrie now understood it all, he thought. Not- 
withstanding the safeguards thrown around so care- 
fully, his proposed flight had been discovered he 
knew — as well by his college secret society friends 
as by Quantrell, and the danger that had threatened 
its defeat at the hands of the latter had been most 
successfully parried by the former. 

His succorers had been his late fellow-students, 
who had adjourned to this spot and lighted this fire, 
for some further reason, the purport of which he 
knew not. 

The next day when Mrs. De Kalb heard of this 
adventure, she fully realized that Moultrie’s depar- 
ture was for the best, and not a moment too soon. 

Henry the Fifth of England as “ Prince Hal,” was 
a very wild boy for so good a King afterwards. 

Moultrie De Kalb, the prankish and disgraced 
Cedar-Crest student, developed, in Colorado and 
throughout the southwest and northwest, into a 
very wealthy, remarkably successful and eminently 
honorable business man. The friction encountered 
there and the opportunities for a free exercise of his 
latent and marked talent for active mercantile life, 
asserted itself to a most marked degree, and devel- 


quantrell foiled. 91 

Oped marvelously, and everything he touched seemed 
to turn to gold. 

He amassed fortune upon fortune, and paved the 
way to financial indeoendence for relatives and 
friends. 


CHAPTER VII. 

QUANTRELL FOILED. — IN THE HANDS OF THE 
“ MYSTIC CREW." 

Fatty FORBUSH and his bosom friend Hercules — 
pronounce “ bosom ” with a long drawn out linger- 
ing on the “ o ” of the first syllable, as, for instance, 
bo-o-o-som, and you have Fatty’s pronunciation of the 
word. Fatty and Hercules occupied adjoining 
rooms on the second floor of the large, rambling 
frame house, from whence the whip-poor-will calls, 
mentioned heretofore, had issued. 

A narrow strip of sward aligned the sidewalk on 
both sides, in front, and rising from this, furnishing 
delightful umbrageous comfort when old Sol was 
fiery, for Fatty’s room, was a stately elm born before 
the footprints of the first white man had left their 
impress near the spot. 

It was known, far and wide, by the college alumni 
of many successive commencement affairs and, by 
each and all was respected as the grandest old syl- 
van patriarch ever associated with anything like 
“ wild and woolly West ” scholastics. 

Once a year it was garlanded with wreaths gath- 
ered from surrounding less significant forest mon- 
archs of its kin. It seemed more rugged and stal- 
wart now, in its ripe old age, than many a would-be- 
peer of younger and juicier growth. 

In its thick foliage Fatty could, and did, watch the 
many and various feathered songsters that, now and 


9 ± 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


anon, peopled its branches, among which they 
builded their nests and reared their young, and war- 
bled sweet carols. 

But woe unto such as were scansorial, and came 
with their pecking proclivities to bore for food be- 
neath its sacred epidermis. 

Fatty did not know they were a blessing instead 
of a curse, and death only to destroying insects. 

A smooth-bore pistol, of indefinite calibre, had 
been metamorphosed, years before, from a hors du 
combat shotgun (burst in the barrel midway be- 
tween the breech and muzzle) into an available 
instrument of retribution against those supposed 
beautiful pests, whenever they attempted such sacri- 
lege. 

A convenient gunsmith had sawed off all but a 
foot of the barrel, and had trimmed down the stock, 
ironing it heavily to counteract recoil. 

Frequent firing with fine bird shot at these wood- 
peckers, had made Fatty quite expert in this, to him, 
very entertaining species of guardianship, and 
throughout all the neighborhood he was the ac- 
knowledged custodian of the ancient and honored 
elm. 

At that season of the year it was impossible to 
see through the thick foliage beneath his window, 
and identify any one on the sidewalk below, and, to 
a passer-by, looking upward, this window was 
equally indiscernible. 

For many years the various occupants of this 
room had trimmed and trimmed the outpsreading 
boughs of the tree, to bring about this result. 

At the moment Si Quantrell met Dinah on this 
very spot, on the sidewalk under the old elm, Fatty, 
with pistol in hand, was peering into its leafy 
branches, in search of an industriously offending, but 
very wary, offender. 

Although, because of the rustling of the leaves in 
the breeze, some words were lost, enough of the 
conversation was overheard for the quick-witted 


quantrell foiled. 


93 


listener to fully comprehend its import. And after 
it was finished, and the parties had moved away. 
Fatty ran into Hercules’ room, and broke up the 
study of his Greek by announcing it succinctly tO' 
him and a visiting classmate. 

The trio thereupon resolved to place Moultrie 
beyond Quantrell’s power to injure him. 

Besides warning him personally, it was arranged 
that, at a meeting of the secret society called for 
that very night, and to which they all belonged, an 
appeal should be made in his behalf for concerted 
action on the part of every secret society member, 
to protect him against Quantrell’s proposed persecu- 
tion, and looking to his humiliation in retaliation, 
should he persist in his endeavors to disgrace him. 

What plan was settled upon and carried out, will 
be developed further on in these pages. 

At the meeting of the society that evening, at 
“ Buzzard Roost,” “ at the hour the hen sleeps,” a 
lively interest in the young man was manifested, and 
watchers were at once ordered, with messenger aides- 
de-camp accompanying, to report the movements 
during the evening of Si Quantrell and Moultrie, 
and a “ committee of scribes ” drafted a pledge 
which they proposed to compel Quantrell to sign, 
and the “ knights of ceremonial fire,” and the “ jani- 
tors-yeomen,” hurried with lucifer tapers, to the 
“ bosky rendezvous.” 

Nearly all the society had gathered at this ren- 
dezvous, close to the village burial-ground and near 
the railroad, as the train bearing Cheval and Moul- 
trie sped past. 

It had hardly disappeared in the distance, when. 
Quantrell’s captors arrived, silently leading him into 
the midst of “ the mystic masks.” 

“Order! Order!” in deep base tones broke the 
midnight stillness, and the hum of voices was im- 
mediately hushed as the exceedingly comical looking 
masqueraders seated themselves, crosslegged, on. 
the turf. 


94 


MOULTRIE BE KALB. 


Each costume was a caricature of some person or 
idea salient in history or poetry, and it was manifest 
that older heads than many of those screened by 
the typical masks worn had had a hand in devising 
them. 

After a prelude of meaningless ceremonial, the 
same bass voice that had at first evoked so much re- 
spect, said imperatively,— 

“ Bring forth the Culprit !” 

And Quantrell was pulled forward, near the fire, 
while the whole party arose and surrounded him, 
making odd guttural sounds. 

His eyes flashed with indignation, and he looked 
searchingly at each domino, in a vain endeavor to 
pierce the disguise and identify the face beneath. 

The gag in his mouth prevented utterance of the 
profuse profane explosions that were in his mind. 

The bass voice again commanded order, and the 
maskers seated themselves, crosslegged, around the 
now waning fire. 

Perfect quiet being restored, the anathema was read, 
in which, in the name of “ the bird of the midnight 
vigils,” dire trouble was threatened all who perse- 
cuted, or aided and abetted in the persecution'or pros- 
ecution of anyone connected with the recent 
charivari. 

Si Quantrell was then solemnly warned, at his 
peril, to do no harm whatever to any collegian. 

A tin-trumpet and a cow-bell then gave audible 
evidence of their presence, and a dozen flaming 
brands in the hands of as many hideously looking 
dominoes, who flourished them wildly and danced in 
a circle around the prisoner, appeared. 

The bass voice again restored quiet and rattled off 
a jumble of three or four Latin lines, having neither 
sense nor rhythm in them, but which were responded 
to by low groans and the renewed violent ringing of 
cow-bells and hand-bells, and the blowing of horns 
and whistles. 

This senseless rigmarole over, the pledge for Quan- 


QUANTRELL FOILED. 


95 


trcll’s signature was read to him in a slow, tragic 
voice, and he was told that to have their sympathy 
within the meaning of their code, was to have their 
surveillance over his property during any celebration 
commanded by the Owl, with a view to its protec- 
tion from injury by any malicious Vandals who par- 
ticipated in their fetes and orgies, uninvited, and 
took advantage, under cover of them, to wreak their 
spite by defacing or destroying the possessions of 
those citizens they had ill will toward. 

He was then asked, amid a flourish of pompous 
words, if he would sign the pledge and accept his 
immediate freedom, or refuse to sign and be left in 
the woods, tied to a tree, until some passer-by re- 
leased him. 

Quantrell had a vivid imagination on the subject 
of supernatural apparitions, and the village cemetery 
was less than two hundred yards away, its white 
tomb-stones looming up, like motionless spectres, in 
the silent night. 

To be left alone with these and the dead they 
commemorated as his only near neighbors, until 
day, was too much. 

He was a coward, and trembled at the thought. 

He imagined himself thus situated and environed 
by a legion of ghastly and grinning skeletons with 
chattering jaws jibbering away at him, and fleshless 
phalanges twining in mock handshakings around 
his own fat fingers. 

“Yes,” he would sign, he would sign the pledge 
and do anything, provided he could get away from 
that dread-inspiring spot simultaneously with them. 

The chief scribe came forward, wearing a three 
feet high funnel-shaped white cap emblazoned with 
various hieroglyphics, and having the head and neck 
of a jackass in tin, painted blue, dangling from its 
apex by a small brass chain. 

Around his neck was a long yellow band fringed 
at the ends heavily, to which was fastened a broad 


9<5 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


board, with a scarlet covering, suspended horizon- 
tally in front of his breast. 

On this lay, out-spread, the manuscript Quantrell 
was required to sign. 

The scribe approached with measured tread, while 
two masks released Quantrell’s right arm, and an- 
other came forward with an inkstand and pen, 
whereupon the paper was duly signed. 

They then proceeded to the master of ceremonies, 
who chanted the Latin prepositions, in verse, loftily, 
and received the manuscript, after which, in a 
deeper and more solemn bass voice than heretofore, 
while he extended his hands impressively upward, 
as if pronouncing a benediction, he said in measured 
tones : 

“ Let the racket begin !” 

Then there broke forth a perfect bedlam of 
noises from trumpets, whistles, cow-bells, triangles, 
and other instruments, that made the welkin ring, 
and the party scattered, each student going to his 
own room quickly, all but four who detained Quan- 
tr£ll until the others had a good start that would en- 
able them to reach home before he could spy out 
where they went, if he felt so disposed. 

Conducting him slowly to the railroad embank- 
ment, a little below the Poinsett cottage, these four 
unbound his hands, and ordered him to pass on and 
himself remove the gag from his mouth, producing 
pistols at the same time, and warning him not to dog 
their footsteps on pain of serious penalty. But he 
was only too glad to get away and hurried to his 
own home, swearing “ a blue streak ” all the wa y. 


MOULTRIE A RANCHMAN. 


97 


CHAPTER VIII. 

MOULTRIE A RANCHMAN AND MERCHANT IN 
COLORADO. 

“ You can let me have twenty-five pounds of that 
coffee and three hundred of the bacon,” said a mus- 
cular looking, tall individual in buckskin pantaloons, 
and wearing a large Mexican sombrero. 

“ I reckon I’ll take fifty of them beans, too.” 

“ There are eighty pounds to the sack,” replied’ 
Moultrie De Kalb, standing behind a long, rambling 
counter. 

“ Well, say a sack then,” responded Mr. Chamber- 
lain. 

“ And make it four hundred of bacon instead of 
three. We may run agin high water and have to 
go into camp somewhere, and game is scarce on the 
upper road just now anyhow.” 

Moultrie was the picture of an active young busi- 
ness man, as he stood there, in his shirt sleeves, with 
a pen behind his ear, and hurriedly entered this 
order of the overland freighter on his blotter. 

It was now late in the spring succeeding the 
September midnight when he made his eventful and 
precipitate exit from Cedar-Crest. He had, under 
his uncle, rapidly developed superior business tact, 
and had been, until recently, in charge of the joint 
hotel and store at the mines, twenty-five miles fur- 
ther up Centipede Canyon. 

He had had his mother with him :a'Il through the 
preceding severe winter, she having decided to ac- 
company him to Colorado when he came, and hav- 
ing subsequently found a return trip, before warm 
weather set in again, promising too much of hard- 
ship and danger.; and her husband had finally con- 
cluded to sell out and move West himself, induced 
by the golden assurance .shadowed forth in his son Is 


9 3 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


wonderful success, and the very flattering predic- 
tions from that young man, his mother and Moul- 
trie’s sanguine and successful uncle. 

Mr. DeKalb was a miller of moderate means, and 
a certain point in Centipede Canyon, Southern Col- 
orado, possessed all the water-power and other re- 
quisites for a most desirable mill-site. 

It also lay within twelve miles of the one-and- 
twenty of the other great trails running east and 
west through that section. 

A flour-mill and a sheep-ranch he had finally de- 
cided on as his intended ventures, with a store and 
bridge at the gorge crossed by the more distant of 
the two roads. He had, at first, very urgently sug- 
gested a freighting outfit, but was discouraged by 
both his son and brother-in-law, who correctly pro- 
phesied that railroads would soon supersede tedious 
ox-trains, and, furthermore, the danger from Indians 
— for the brief period that they might prove profit- 
able — was a very serious objection. 

When Moultrie had been with his uncle only a 
month, the latter had taken him on horseback over 
a section of mountain and valley land in the neigh- 
borhood of the mines, and, pointing out valuable 
features that would assert their worth when the 
country later on thronged with settlers, he had 
spoken of other localities possessing corresponding, 
and, in some instances, even greater points of value, 
and had finally said: 

“ Now, my boy, I shall turn over to you five to 
eight thousand acres of this, on equal shares, the 
surveys of which you must go over and prove. I 
shall also authorize you to make a description of 
contiguous lands, with a view to their future purchase, 
should we, on consultation, conclude to do so. 
You must discover carefully the full resources of all 
this acreage as nearly as you can, and estimate the 
probable cost of their development and the probable 
return for such outlay. 

" l have perfect confidence in your ability to do 


MOULTRIE A RANCHMAN. 


99 


so. Consider these matters closely and well, and 
talk them up generally, in their respective drifts, 
with all the well informed men hereabouts, and see 
what you can do.” 

Moultrie did see what he could, and worked indus- 
triously and with a vim, until threatening snow- 
drifts and intensely cold weather warned him to 
desist. 

Meanwhile, his success in the management of the 
hotel and store was excellent. He showed himself 
superior as a caterer even, and the books and ac- 
counts, that had been somewhat loosely kept before, 
were now models of precision and neatness. 

He had a marked aptitude for business. 

In book-keeping at school he had always been 
“to the fore,” and in his practical application of its 
rules in connection with his uncle’s affairs he was 
the same. 

He prepared weekly abstracts on sheets of fools- 
cap, agreeing exactly with his book-statements, which, 
posted up over his desk, served for his uncle as a 
sort of business-map — like a topographic chart — giv- 
inga bird’s-eye view of his varied transactions at a 
glance. 

It was a new idea in that section, and was a clear 
cut and complete exhibit of how each and every one 
of all the irons he had in the fire were working. 

Towns, in the far West, sprang up like mushrooms 
in those days. Fortunes were made and lost in a 
jiffy, and men of business ability were recognized, 
and raised to the highest pinnacle of trust and suc- 
cess in the same rapid manner. And the supply 
was entirely inadequate to the demand. What the 
poor, sweltering, competent, metropolitan account- 
ants missed. 

Now, at the time we find Moultrie, on this beauti- 
ful May day, selling a small bill of goods to a small 
overland freighter, he is in charge for a few hours 
of his own store, thirty miles south of the Mines 
Hotel and town, on the great trail that passes only 


IOO 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


twelve miles below the fine water-power he had 
pre-empted for his father’s prospective mill. 

Let us look at this store. 

It is constructed like nearly all other buildings 
throughout that region of country. It is a Mexican 
hackell. 

The logs forming the walls were set upright in a 
parallelogram trench, and then a horizontal log was 
laid along their tops and pinned to each by strong, 
tough mesquit, or osage-orange, wooden pegs driven 
into auger-holes bored through the horizontal into 
the top of each perpendicular log. The walls were 
about nine feet high, with the “ cap log.” 

They extended along the front face about fifty 
feet. The rear wall of the front section was about 
eighteen feet from the front, and the two were 
joined by a roof of logs, thatched with sedge or 
tussock grass, which was covered with two to three 
feet of earth, ridged in the centre parallel with the 
front of the structure, while the roof of the long 
rear of the parallelogram was similarly constructed 
and ridged parallel with its side walls. 

This extension was a warehouse. The short 
front section, the walls lined with cheap cotton-cloth, 
was floored with bridge planks and divided into three 
rooms, one of which was a store, and one was jointly 
an office and bedroom for Moultrie, while the third 
was for the accomomdation of occasional belated 
travelers. The dining-room and kitchen were at the 
lower end of the warehouse. 

The front face had three narrow, low doorways, 
to pass through which a tall man would have to 
ptoop. These were the entrances to the store. 

Three American and two Mexican clerks, four 
corral men, five herders and two negroes were all the 
people employed by De Kalb, except his Mexican 
housekeeper and cook, and a colored boy from a 
military post about a hundred miles southwest. 

A large stockade fence extended back from the 
long extension of the building fully eighty feet. 


MOULTRIE A RANCHMAN. 


IOI 


Massive double gates opened into this from the 
front side, adjoining the store. 

The warehouse was not sufficiently commodious 
for the large invoice of goods, recently received 
from “ the States/’ and as a consequence, a consider- 
able quantity was piled on skids, inside the corral, 
and covered with heavy paulins. 

In the most distant corner of the corral was a 
small canvas-covered stable. 

Across the road, Moultrie was building an enclo- 
sure or yard, that sloped down to and crossed a lit- 
tle branch of the adjacent mountain stream, to a 
miniature island where a little house was being con- 
structed. 

This was to be a poultry yard, in charge of one of 
the corral men, an ex-scridier, who had lost his left 
hand in an Indian skirmish more than a year before, 
and had in consequence been discharged on a sur- 
geon’s certificate. Moultrie had had repeated proofs 
of his ability and honesty. 

McBride — that was his name — had pre-empted 
certain land near by, was a fair penman and arith- 
metician, and would, therefore, be a useful employe ; 
and, by accepting employment with DeKalb would 
be able to remain, with profit to himself, near by, to 
cultivate his land and satisfactorily fulfill the require- 
ments of the government in reference to residence 
thereon. 

Furthermore, Moultrie had taken for him the 
initial steps toward procuring his deserved pension. 

And this is why we find him here, constructing a 
poultry house and yard, and in divers and sundry 
other directions adding an appearance of civilization 
to this primeval home of polecats, wolves, and wild 
cats, this game-abounding and wild-beasts-infested 
region. The poultry yard was a suggestion of 
McBride’s. 

He had, through a long experience, acquired a 
knack for raising chickens, geese, and ducks, in the 
very heart of the wild stretches of the far West, and 


102 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


notwithstanding the constant inroads of destructive 
marauders, his broods had always thrived and rap- 
idly multiplied. 

It was an industry peculiarly pleasurable to him. 
As was also the cultivation of his little garden, made 
almost immediately upon his arrival, and located in 
the glen above the ranch, where the land had such 
a configuration that, by means of an ingenious trench 
and lock he had constructed, he was enabled to 
irrigate the different beds to the full extent of their 
needs. 

Before a year had rolled by he had apple, cherry, 
peach and plum trees under way, as well as two or 
three varieties of grapes from vineyards in New 
Mexico. 

True, all were young and tender, but they were 
full of fine promise, and were under the care of a 
vigilant custodian. 

When Moultrie’s father moved into Centipede 
Canyon, and became one of his nearest neighbors — 
twelve miles above, up the mountain gorge on the 
same mountain stream — the old gentleman’s inspec- 
tion of McBride’s work, and his practical hints on 
horticulture, were both acceptable and very valuable. 

The soldier-gardener was also supplied, liberally, 
with books and papers devoted to fruit culture and 
farm and stock interests, which he read carefully 
and with keen relish, and learned to understand 
thoroughly. 

In the course of time he married one of the women 
employed at the Mines Hotel, and, with her help and 
that of the Mexican couple he had hired, he branched 
out in partnership with Moultrie — who supplied the 
capital — into the stock business, starting a dairy, 
which paid him handsomely from the patronage he 
received from the heavy overland travel, constantly 
increasing. 

In anticipation of the establishment of the De 
Kalb mill, and through the active efforts of Moultrie 
and his uncle, many acres of soil were turned within 


MOULTRIE A RANCHMAN, 103 

the area of forty miles, and a considerable amount 
of grain planted. 

Freighters had also been informed that wheat, 
corn, rye, etc., bought in the kernel in New Mexico, 
or anywhere on the route, the following year could 
be ground at this prospective mill, which, it will not 
be amiss to say right here, Moultrie and his uncle 
had decided themselves to build, if the young man's 
father had not concluded to. 

To reach the site of the mill from Moultrie’s 
store with wagons, by way of the canyon, was diffi- 
cult and exceedingly dangerous in places, but easy 
and safe enough on foot or horseback. 

The only really accessible route for teams, at the 
time, was over a road that described a detour of 
fully sixty miles all told, and it was both narrow 
and precipitous, at best. 

Moultrie had been over every foot of the course 
of the stream, between the two main highways, or 
“ big trails ” as they were called, and had early con- 
ceived the idea of shortening the route between each, 
and to the mill, by making a road for teams through 
the gulch traversed by the stream, constructing 
bridges at two points where crossings would be 
necessary. 

This would connect the two stores and their toll 
bridges on the main highways, with the mill lying 
intermediate. 

He had furthermore resolved, if a thorough survey 
should satisfy him it could be done at a small cost, 
to remove a few slight obstructions, and then put 
rafts on the river for the shipping of grain, meal and 
other commodities. 

The current was not swift between the points, al- 
though it was a mountain stream that took its original 
rise from a veritable watery volcano, high up and 
many miles away. 

Not a single cascade broke the flow between the 
two big trails, save the one just above McBride’s 
irrigating ditch, and nowhere was the width less 


104 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


than twenty and the channel less than four feet 
deep. 

Its navigation seemed not a very difficult problem 
to solve. 

Mexican burros, Moultrie thought, could be util- 
ized on the tow path, going up stream ; or mules, if 
burros were not heavy enough. 

While these schemes were engaging his active 
mind, McBride, on his part, was busy with plans to 
benefit from the stream on a different tack. 

Its waters abounded in fine, though not large, fish, 
and a wicker dam below the bridge, that would not 
perceptibly retard the currents, but would effect- 
ually bar their escape further down, was his scheme. 

Already he had sent for nets and fishing tackle, 
and a fine harvest of the finny tribe was in anticipa- 
tion by him. 

Everything pointed to a prosperous future. 

Volunteers, who had won their title to land by 
fighting, in the great rebellion, for the glorious Stars 
and Stripes, were settling beside the chronic squatters 
or claim jumpers, and sturdy, but unsuccessful, hon- 
est and hard working farmers, from the East, in 
search of a new Eldorado. 

As yet no railroad had been projected through 
that section near enough to threaten a new route, 
with better transportation facilities for merchants, 
and loss to the heavy wagon freighters, with the 
speedy abolition of their traite. 

The stage company had concluded to make a 
division terminal station at Moultrie’s ranch, and a 
post-office had been established there. 

Help was scarce, however, and such as could be 
obtained was not worth very much. And it was a 
long, tedious journey across the plains, with supplies 
from civilization to the distant store, in the long, 
narrow valley, at the grand old mountain’s base. 

For these reasons, Moultrie’s project — to use a 
mining-camp phrase — “ did not pan out ” as promptly 
as he had hoped it would. His blood was up, how- 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. iO£ 

ever, and it seemed as if nothing could keep pace 
with or discourage his ambition. 

But his cool-headed uncle held the check-rein, and 
the young man, as a consequence, succeeded in ac- 
complishing gigantic strides without entanglement. 

He still continued to make out weekly abstracts 
for his uncle, in addition to conducting his own 
business, having during the winter instructed a 
young man how to keep the books, from day to day, 
with sufficient clearness and accuracy to make the 
rendition of the account current, each week, approx- 
imately correct and neither a long nor a tedious 
task. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 

On the banks of a small stream, on the edge of 
Council Grove, a large, heavily laden ox-train was 
“hooking up,” preparatory to “ stringing out,” and 
resuming its westward march. 

There were eighty-odd towering “ prairie schoon- 
ers,” in “the outfit,” loaded to their fullest capacity, 
besides several heavy trucks and platforms on stout 
iron wheels, weighed down with ponderous ma- 
chinery. 

Traveling carriages there were also, and a herd of 
horses and extra cattle. 

The “ Yoh-haw!” of the “bull whackers,” as they 
yoked their steers and swung them into position, 
flirting, with dexterity, their thirty feet long whip- 
lashes, the stinging ends of which fell like an infur- 
iated hornet, far ahead on the back of some unsus- 
pecting ox, and the yells and curses of others, were 
not in the least suppressed because of the presence 
of women and children in the train. 


io 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Every teamster wore a revolver at his waist, and 
carried a rifle, strapped to the bows of his wagon. 
For they were now entering on dangerous ground, 
and every man knew the outfit would enjoy rare 
luck, if it reached its far distant destination with- 
out at least one “ brush ” with the Indians, while 
en route. 

It was seldom, indeed, that an expedition of the 
kind had entered upon its long and snail-like jour- 
ney, over that slender trail across the great plains, 
so well equipped with fire-arms and munitions. 

Besides the teamsters, there were some fifteen men 
on horseback, five ladies, nine young children, and 
their colored female servants. 

The five carriages were each drawn by four horses, 
and two of them were billed for Centipede Canyon, 
one being for Moultrie De Kalb and the other for 
his father. 

There was also an invoice of new parts of running 
gear for the vehicles already at the mines, and a 
number of young, carefully bundled fruit-trees and 
berry-bushes among the freight. 

The season had been backward, and Mr. De Kalb, 
Moultrie’s father believed he could transplant 
these sprouts to his new home in Colorado in safety. 
He had undertaken it, at all hazards, on the strength 
of a hint in a letter from his better-half. 

“ I can only fail at worst,” he had mused, “ and if 
I do, she will be better pleased with my having tried 
to bring them.” So there they were. 

And so was he, Mr. De Kalb, senior, with this 
train. So, also, was Mr. Foster (Mrs. De Kalb’s 
brother) with his family. He had sold his farm in 
the outskirts of Cedar-Crest, “ to go with the rest of 
them,” he said, “ to the land of Eureka.” 

He had never had any confidence in Moultrie, and 
all along had insisted to his sister that her excessive 
fondness for him, even though he was an only child, 
was silly — that the boy was positively trifling, if not 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 10/ 

“ unbalanced/' and that her treatment of him en- 
couraged his “ unworthiness.” 

And it was only because of her rare amiability and 
unswerving confidence in her darling boy, that the 
devoted mother brooked such language, and contin- 
ued on friendly terms with her otherwise lovable 
brother. 

On account of the excellent success of Moultrie in 
the brief period of his sojourn in Colorado, Mr. 
Foster felt satisfied that that territory would prove 
an Eldorado for any one as smart as himself. 

Hence he had quickly signified his determination 
to accompany him, when the young man’s father 
suddenly stated his intention to move there, and 
Moultrie, learning of this, had kindly prepared a 
great surprise for his hostile uncle, by carefully in- 
specting and locating all the available land for miles 
around that was in any respect promising for agri- 
culture, intending to post him immediately on his 
arrival, so he could the more intelligently pre-empt. 

Fatty Forbush, too, was on the train. Jolly 
Fatty ! As rotund, roguish, and irrepressible as 
ever. 

From boyhood he had been an amateur printer, 
and, now, having been suspended from college for 
some misdemeanor in which his portly figure had 
betrayed him, equipped with a printing-press, he was 
on his way to the Far West to start a frontier news- 
paper, in addition to his other occupation as sub- 
manager for Mr. De Kalb’s store and mill. 

The death of his father (his mother had long been 
dead) left no family ties he cared for, to hold him 
home, and the inheritance of about ten thousand 
dollars in cash and chattels had made him indepen- 
dent, pecuniarily, for a while at least. 

His salary with Mr. De Kalb was to be condi- 
tioned on the work required of him, and the success 
of the store. In other words, he was to share with 
his employer in his good or ill luck. Each had per- 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


108 

feet confidence in the other, and both were fully sat- 
isfied with the arrangement. 

Fatty’s great dream and ambition, however, was 
his prospective newspaper, and he swore he would 
enroll every wild Indian and buffalo on the plains, 
as a prompt-paying subscriber. 

Around it hovered, with golden wings, “ Great 
Expectations.” It took two sabre-belts spliced to 
circumscribe Fatty’s waist. 

If Moultrie and others could succeed so marvel- 
ously out in that wonderful Far West, what could he 
not accomplish with a newspaper ! 

Of course he had had no practical experience in 
journalism, but neither had Moultrie had any in 
:shop-keeping. 

Yes, the booming West would boom him, and with 
prodigious strides he rose, in imagination, to the 
pinnacle of success in less than no time. This was 
his sleeping and waking, all absorbing thought. 
‘“Later on,” he soliloquized, “I will goto Congress.” 

But he, with varying emotion, soon found that a 
paper one-half the size he had intended was much 
better suited to the demands of his new home. 

A half-sheet, printed on both sides, was ample. 

He therefore used but one form, one page of 
which printed the inside and the other page the out- 
side of “ The Ute Vedette .” Fatty had built “ castles 
in the air.” 

For two weeks the great wagons of that huge 
•overland train crept slowly on. Sometimes string- 
ing out with long distances between each, so that it 
was considerably over a mile from the front to the 
rear one. 

Fine antelope trotted up and stared from a dis- 
tance, and then circled round and trotted nearer ; 
;and still again circled, coming yet nearer. 

But no marksman in all that train, who had 
•essayed an attempt, though a hundred shots had 
been fired, had had sufficient accuracy of aim to 
Bring one down. 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 109 


Now, after these two weeks of slow, monotonous, 
uneventful travel, just as all hands were beginning 
to grow careless, while the sun was barely two hours 
past meridian, they approached the spot where the 
great epoch in the lives of some of them was soon to 
transpire. 

It is reached, and, with a range of low sand hills 
stretching out on the right — dotted here and there 
with bunches of wild plum trees — and with a broad 
shallow river on the left, the huge caravan is pre- 
paring to encamp. Already the herders have been 
detailed and assigned their posts and many of the 
oxen have been unyoked and turned loose to graze. 

The cooks are busily engaged, getting their uten- 
sils, and one little group of men, women and chil- 
dren, cheerily talking, are arranging to put up a 
tent. 

Suddenly, swift as the wind, and noiselessly, from 
two different points, there swept down from their 
ambush in those treacherous sand-hills, on those un- 
suspecting people, two legions of gaudily caparisoned 
and hideously painted savages. 

They looked like two swift-winged hordes of demon 
centaurs, and not like horses and riders that could 
sever themselves and become separately man and 
beast. 

On they came ! One hundred human devils in 
the wild blazonry of war ! Barbarian war ! 

Not civilized war, mark you, where quarter is 
given to a sticken foe when it is asked, but savage 
war ! Where the battle cry is extermination ! And 
where horrible mutilation follows close on the heels 
of merciless slaughter ! 

On they came ! Their lances poised, and blazing 
in the western sunlight ! 

Their shields of toughened buffalo hide, decked 
with bright colored strips of flannel, resting on their 
left arms, while each stringed bow was clenched in 
the left hand, and the right was ready to fly to the 


IIO 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


filled quiver of poisoned arrows, suspended over the 
right shoulder. 

No need of bridle rein for them ! 

Born to the saddle, they could direct their ponies 
by pressure of the legs or swaying of body, far more 
skillfully than the most expert of civilized horsemen, 
trained in civilized schools, and after civilized 
methods. 

The women and children were at the lower end of 
the train, and the cooks were at the upper end. 

These ends had been left open, to admit the cattle 
when the time should arrive to drive them in from 
the grazing ground, for the purpose of hitching up 
and resuming the journey. 

This was the habitual manner of parking what, in 
prairie parlance is called a “ bull outfit.” 

It was customary in dangerous country, to stretch 
chains or ropes across the openings. But that had 
not been done, as yet, with this train, and straight 
for these openings, from opposite directions, the 
two Comanche war-parties made their wild, impet- 
uous_ dash. 

Fortunately, at the upper one, fully a dozen men, 
with rifles in hand, were about sallying forth to at- 
tack a few buffalo that, less than eight hundred 
yards distant, were slowly making toward the river, 
at the big bend in their front. 

Nearly all these men belonged to that class known 
as frontiermen, and had crossed the great plains re- 
peatedly. They were veterans, fearless, and as agile 
as cats. 

They despised the enthusiasm of novices, as old 
sailors sneer at land-lubbers, during their excitement 
over a first squall, and had “whoahawed ” their 
teams with perfect unconcern, during all the wild 
shooting that had attended the appearance of the 
antelopes on previous days. 

But now, the bona-fide whale of the plains — the 
huge, lumbering buffalo, king of prairie game — was 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 1 1 1 


And it was well for that train at that juncture, 
that they were, for those particular men who were 
preparing to shoot them had encountered Indians 
as well as buffalo before. 

Among them was one, Jack Crawford, assistant 
wagon master, whom they all tacitly acknowledged 
as a leader. 

His say was their say. 

His orders they sprang to obey with the same 
alacrity sailors obey, during a fierce storm, the minut- 
est commands of an officer, whose judgment they 
have tested and proven. 

He was the first to see the savages, and instantly, 
as if by instinct, his eye swept the horizon, in every 
direction, to see if there were more coming, and to 
take in the whole situation, before he spoke a word, 
then, imperatively, he said in a sharp tone. 

“Bivins and Walsh, you up with the chain like 
lightning, w-e’ve other game to look after! 

“ Don’t shoot, boys, until I give the word, then aim 
low. Scatter out now near the chain, quick !” 

Then, seeing several had caught sight of the 
Indians, he added. 

“ Steady, boys, steady now, no excitement !” 

Every man did as ordered, and meanwhile, others 
further off seeing a commotion, instinctively rushed 
for their wagons, and unstrapped their guns, while 
still others, who were already preparing to clean 
theirs, suspended operations and loaded. 

Not long had it taken for all this, not as long as it 
has taken to tell it. And even now, when the sav- 
ages, less than three hundred yards away, broke out 
with loud, fierce, blood-curdling yells, they were only 
perceived by a majority of the people, simultane- 
ously with the terror and excitement those yells in- 
spired. 

Truly, to be forwarned is to be forearmed. 

That surprised majority were actually paralyzed 
with fear at their awful peril, and made impotent 


1 12 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


haste to get at their means of defense, running 
blindly against each other. 

The appearance of that small herd of buffalo had 
been providential. God be praised ! 

Every soul in the train would have been similarly 
terror-stricken, each to a greater or less extent, and 
all would have been surely massacred, if it had not 
come in sight just when it did. 

The women and children stood for a moment as if 
transfixed, then those who could dashed under the 
nearest wagons, bruising and almost knocking them- 
selves senseless, as they struck their heads against 
the axles and extra parts secured to the running 
gear. 

On its last trip this same train had been re- 
peatedly threatened with a similar attack, and was 
saved from anything serious, only by the vigilance 
of its managers. Now numerous troops were patrol- 
ling and their vigilance was relaxed. 

Night after night, off and on for three weeks, 
the red freebooters of the plains had steathily gal- 
loped up under cover of darkness, and fired volleys 
into it, directing their aim at its camp-fires, and, when 
those were prohibited, at the white wagon covers 
looming up against the horizon. 

They had fired the grass ahead in its track re- 
peatedly, and thereby half starved the cattle, and, 
but for the semi-empty condition of the wagons 
would have seriously impeded its progress, and in 
all probability have compelled the abandonment of 
some portions. 

Nearly one-third of the teamsters had resigned, on 
arrival at Kansas City, rather than run the risk of 
repeating such exposures and hardships by another 
trip west, and these had been replaced largely by 
green hands. 

These facts should have made greater vigilance 
the rule with the contractors and wagon masters, and, 
in no instance, before this onset occurred, after halt 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 1 1 3 

ing, should any of the guns have remained strapped 
to the wagon. 

When the Indians in front of Crawford’s squad 
saw the reception in store for them, at a sign from 
one who towered in his saddle and seemed to be 
their chief, they split into two parties and each half 
described a receding curve to the right and left, 
striking off on tangents, directly crosswise with their 
former imposing approach. 

But they were too late. 

Their tactics had been fully understood and 
“ Fire !” Crawford shouted, in the loudest of tones. 

Two-thirds of the guns in the hands, of his little 
party, were Spencer Rifles, (seven-shooters) while 
the others were repeating-arms of various descrip- 
tions. And they were all used with excellent effect. 

A dozen or more redmen tumble from their 
saddles, or went down with their stricken horses, at 
the first discharge, and the firing was kept up until 
they rode off beyond range, or were lost to sight as 
they retreated among the bushes to the left, or to 
the lower ground, skirting the river on the right. 

Meanwhile their allies, the attacking force on the 
other flank, had not fared so disastrously. 

They wrought much injury, before they were re- 
pulsed, and besides killing three men, carried off two 
women and two children. 

But for Crawford and some of his party, who 
hurried most timely to their assistance, several 
others would have been killed, and the brutal savages 
might have had it all their own way. 

As it was, they succeeded in partially cutting off 
the herders and several others who had gone for 
water to the river bank. 

It was in this way that they captured one of the 
ladies with her nurse and two children, who had 
strolled out of the corral to pick wild plums. 

The boys were each taken by an arm and thrown 
roughly across the pommel of a saddle, and the 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 14 

mother (who had fallen fainting), was rudely seized, 
and unceremoniously treated likewise by a stalwart 
and powerful red fiend, from whose visage — painted 
half yellow and half green — a pair of sharp, black 
eyes scintillated like those of an infuriated snake. 

With a shriek, that made the welkin ring and rose 
in its piercing distinctness clear above the war-whoop 
of the Indians, the comely looking colored girl gave 
vent to her horror and pain, as she was lifted by her 
hair into a like position by her captor, who beat her 
face and head with the handle of his tomahawk to 
compel quiet, until she became insensible from the 
blows. 

Off to the rear and right these inhuman wretches 
galloped, passing, by a tortuous defile, through the 
sand-hills out to the open prairie beyond, over a 
mile away. 

Here they pitched their captives, sans ceremonie , 
from their saddles to the ground, and leaving them 
in charge of a bevy of jabbering squaws, more cruel, 
if possible, than themselves, hurried back to the 
vicinity of the train. 

There “ confusion worse confounded ” reigned. 

Probably one-half of the oxen had been turned 
loose before the approach of the Indians became 
generally known, and these had scattered consider- 
ably, though very few were over seventy-five yards 
outside the wagons. 

The excitement prevailing caused a partial stam- 
pede, but a majority of them, considerably terrified, 
rushed inside the corral and created no little diver- 
sion by wildly colliding with, knocking down and 
trampling under foot the train employes. 

Arrows and rifle balls came swift and thick in 
perfect showers among them, for the redmen were 
variously armed, and discharged their death-dealing 
missiles with the rapidity always characteristic of 
them in battle. 

But for their customary inaccuracy of aim, and the 
presence of the frightened cattle, which served as a 


THE INDIANS ATTACK THE WAGON TRAIN. 11$ 

breast-work, in many instances, the casualties must 
have been far greater. 

These formidable looking and terrifying prairie 
buccaneers are, it seems, incapable of becoming 
sharp-shooters. And when under excitement and 
on horse-back, in large parties, they shoot very 
much at random. 

There are, of course, individual exceptions, isola- 
ted instances of excellent markmanship, but they 
are few and far between comparatively, and the per- 
centage of good shots falls considerably short of that 
of white troops. 

But, while wild shooting can be truthfully alleged 
as a fortunate feature of the attack, it is also a fact 
that the train-men themselves were not what one 
would call experts, except perhaps gallant, unpre- 
tentious Jack Crawford. 

He was a superb marksman, a dead shot. 

The others — the best of them — were merely mod- 
erately good. Nevertheless, throughout, they were 
fearless and cool. Those with Jack after having re- 
pulsed one party turned to assist in repelling the 
other. 

Their fire very soon told effectively, and the In- 
dians at the rear of the train were compelled to 
draw off, as those at the front had done, though not 
in the same manner. 

They fell back, precipitately, beyond range, and 
sat on their horses a long while, as if waiting for 
some onset from the teamsters. Some sortie for 
which they did not propose to be unprepared. 

Now and then “ little bunches ” (to quote a fron- 
tier phrase), would ride off over the hills, out of 
sight, and subsequently they could be seen joining 
the main party. 

While sentinels, posted over the train to watch 
and report all these, as well as any other move- 
ments, were faithfully doing their duty, the chief 
wagon-master and his assistants employed them- 


ii 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


selves in forming a more perfect organization for 
defense. 

The count-up showed four men killed, nine 
wounded, and three unaccounted for. One white 
and one colored woman and two children had been 
Captured; 

Seven steers were killed, three badly hurt, and 
eleven slightly wounded, and twenty-eight were 
missing. 

Four horses were so severely hurt that one died, 
and the other three were shot to rid them of their 
suffering. 

Mr. Foster received a bullet through the arm, and 
old Mr. De Kalb was knocked senseless by a shot 
that struck him in the head, and which, for some 
time, it was supposed had killed him. Later on, 
however, he returned to consciousness, and sat up 
under the wagon where he had been dragged, to pre- 
vent his mutilation by the trampling of the fright- 
ened cattle. 

Then a closer examination disclosed that he had 
merely received a severe scalp wound, that had 
stunned him into insensibility. 

In the frantic rush of the cattle, one of the car- 
riages had been pretty badly wrecked in its upper 
rigging. 


• 

CHAPTER X. 

A NIGHT OF TERROR. 

NIGHT finally closed in on the scene, and what a 
night of terror and dread it was ! 

Many another stout-hearted and cool-headed fel- 
low, all self-possessed in danger by daylight, would 
have quailed, and wished himself in civilization, or 
somewhere else than there, as did the bravest oi 
that besieged party. 


A NIGHT OF TERROR. II? 

The eight hours of darkness made that night an 
epoch in their lives. 

Angry, storm-freighted clouds gathered overhead, 
and shut out the stars completely. Chilling blasts 
swept down through the defiles of the fiend-peopled, 
ghostly-looking sand hills, with a sepulchral moan, 
and flapped the wagon covers with an unceasing 
rat-tat-tat, that would have effectually drowned any 
noise arising from an hostile approach. 

The flashes of lightning were fitful and dim, with 
no artillery of heaven resounding in accompani- 
ment, and only served, at long intervals, to faintly 
light up the outline of those same white hills. 

There was no water in the train, and every one 
was more thirsty for knowing it. 

None had been obtained, for those red fiends now 
holding the river bank had swooped down on the 
corral before there was time. And none of the men 
in the train would dare venture for a supply. 

In fact, none had thought of doing so before night 
set in, and now the darkness and the situation were 
too appalling to think of it, save with a shudder and 
a look aghast. 

Their own unburied dead lay stark and stiff around 
them, looking, 

O ! so ghastly, in the fitful glimmer of the silent 
lightning ! 

A great thirst, augmented by their supper of 
bacon, eaten raw as fires were forbidden, added to 
the torment of a fatigue they dared not relieve, even 
with a single hour of sleep. Nay, not with a single 
moment. 

This state of affairs unnerved everyone to a de- 
gree the inexperienced would scarce believe, and the 
noise of the storming elements, added to the terrible 
darkness, which would have so successfully covered 
the approach of the stealthy and cat-like foe they 
looked for momentarily, only served to enhance the 
prevailing terror. 

The long separated and weak flashes of lightning 


Il8 MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

merely lit up the surroundings sufficiently to give 
them weird and spectral shapes, indefinable, after 
which deeper gloom than before prevailed. 

It was the awful uncertainty that gave the night 
its greatest horror ! 

Would the Indians attack them before daylight ? 
was the all absorbing question. 

The barking and hideous snarling of hordes of 
ravenous wolves that surrounded the train, and 
demanded the spilled blood they had so keenly 
scented from afar, the melancholy note of the whip- 
poor-will and the ominous cry of a score of owls — 
these, blood curdling and dismal as they were, 
were comparatively nothing. 

It was that terrible uncertainty ! The unknown 
intentions of those red fiends who never gave and 
never looked for quarter, and in whose creed the un- 
merciful mutilation of a conquered foe was a car- 
dinal salient. 

The country was swarming with them, for all the 
tribes throughout that section were on the war-path, 
and how did the people of that train know but that 
reinforcements to the besieging party were joining, 
at that very moment, powerful enough to sweep 
every soul of them into eternity at one single de- 
termined dash. 

The Sioux, Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Comanches, 
Kiowas, and Apaches — even the Utes — had donned 
war paint and were rampant. 

The two ladies still safe and the children were in 
a more fearful state of mind than can be imagined 
by any save those who have it in their power to 
recur to a like experience. 

A bullet-proof barricade had been built for them 
of boxes filled with merchandise and sacks of flour 
and grain, and they had laid their beds under a wagon, 
the running gear of which had been stripped of its 
usual lashings, so as to afford all the room possible. 

Here they huddled together in helpless terror. 

A stout rope was so stretched as to protect the 


A NIGHT OF TERROR. 


119 

Carriages from the cattle now herded inside the 
corral. 

A large canvas paulin did service as a roof over 
the area occupied by the families, and afforded them 
excellent shelter from the cold rain, that nearly all 
night poured down, and completely drenched every 
one else. 

A chilling “ Norther ” began blowing just before 
daybreak — commencing too late to supply the relief 
from thirst they had hoped and longed for, without 
making further reliance on the river necessary. 

During those weary hours of darkness and dread, 
while the little ones would articulate piteous plead- 
ings for water to the anxious mothers, suffering even 
more than they, Jack Crawford constantly hovered 
near and, with cheering words, at the same time 
that he scrupulously respected their privacy, gave 
the ladies much encouragement. 

Now he would halt in his walk, close by their 
enclosure, and say : 

“ With our completed defenses, boys, all the 
cowardly red-skins in North America could not 
take us, and as we are likely to meet only a squad of 
the sneakingest among the whole lot, if we meet any 
at all, and I don’t think we will, I really believe two- 
thirds of you had better turn in and get some sleep. 

“ I know prairie Indians, and don’t you be afeared. 
They won’t attack wide-awake guns in the night 
time. 

“ I’ve talked with old trappers, and with Texas 
Rangers, and with cavalry officers who’ve had piles 
of experience, I’ve talked with government scouts, 
too, that’s what I’m going to be — and all of ’em 
say so. 

“ We’re safe, perfectly. So turn in two-thirds 
and catch a snooze.” 

Then again he would be heard saying : 

“ I’m glad to see such a heavy guard around the 
women and children.” 

The space cannot be spared, nor is it necessary to 


120 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


go into further detail in this connection. Suffice it 
to say, he succeeded in his object, and lulled the 
women into fitful slumbers, slumbers thronged with 
entrancing visions of exquisitely beautiful, ice-cold 
crystal cataracts, leaping from jewel-gemmed rocky 
recesses, down vine-sheltered precipices, and out 
into massive, sun-kissed water-mirrors, resting tran- 
quilly here, or ripplingly there, on thick beds of rich 
green moss. 

O, the cool draughts they quaffed ! 

The warmth of a genial sun permeated the flower- 
perfumed air, but its blazing rays were shut out and 
softened by a pavilion of breathing verdure, arched 
far overhead. 

The sward on which they reclined was soft as 
swan’s-down. Rich-plumaged birds, with rarest vocal 
powers, flitted about and sang sweet lays ; and huge 
stalactites, moisture-clothed, in crystal-mouthed 
grottoes, like diamond eyes set in declivitous hill- 
sides, looked down on and watched over their 
repose. 

Lovely water and woodland sprites, clad in deli- 
cate tasselings of ice and gold, flexible as silk, came 
in gay troops from fountains and dells, and played 
beautifully on harps of frost and danced on the face 
of falling cascades, scattering cooling spray broad- 
cast. 

The soft gurgling of the transparent waters was 
a delicious lullaby, wooing them to sweet sleep. 

Fantastic, incoherent, yet rhapsodical ; these mock- 
ing dreams were both blissful and restful. 

The frightful night drew on toward morning, with 
a snail-like and exasperating slowness. 

And finally when, just at dawn, complete relaxa- 
tion had set in, and the limp limbs and peace-lit 
faces of both children and mothers betokened Mor- 
pheus’s supreme reign, the pattering of “ heaven’s 
tears ” on the canvas roof over their heads, and the 
swooping of the winds through the river valley, were 
a soothing lullaby, reinforcing that health-promoting 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE 


DAYS 4 SIEGE. 


121 


monarch and sweet restorer of tired nature — sleep — 
in his now absolute control. 

So they slept on, until the god of day was high up 
in his march toward the empyrean, and it was an 
hour of noon when they finally awoke. 

Much refreshed, but burning with thirst, they 
greedily quaffed the cool water offered them, and 
which had been caught, while they slept, in the wide 
basin that Jack Crawford had made from one of the 
largest paulins in the train. 

The huge tin dipper containing the draught, had 
been one-third filled with sparkling hail-stones that 
had come down in myriads from the cloud-battle- 
ments, skyward, in the last charge of the storm, made 
just before the sun had pierced and dissipated its 
forces. 

How invitingly these lay on the parched tongue, 
how deliciously they cooled the fevered palate, and 
how cheery, after this much needed refreshment, the 
beautiful sunlight was to each of them. 


CHAPTER XI. 

RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS’ SIEGE. 

The sun had thrice risen in the east and had tra- 
veled down its western slope, and the last drop of 
rain-water had been long since consumed, when the 
head wagon-master, just as dawn was breaking, called 
all hands together, and talked to them in earnest 
words for several minutes. 

He said he thought it would be unwise to break 
up the corral until there was perfect certainty that 
the Indians had withdrawn permanently, and, be- 
sides, they did not have enough cattle left to pull 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


U2 

all the wagons, since their recent loss from the at- 
tack. 

He recalled one instance in his own recollection, 
which occurred several years before the war, wherein 
the Indians had lain in ambush with the utmost se^ 
crecy, and at a considerable distance from a wagon- 
train en route for Utah, for seven days, and had 
even under cover of darkness, driven some buffalo 
up, quite close to their intended victims, and when 
some of the teamsters had sallied forth to bring them 
down, the savages had permitted them to come quite 
Close to their lurking-places without molesting or 
even showing themselves. 

True, the situation then, was different from the 
present one, for at the time he reverted to, the train 
he was with had been forced, under much sudden 
excitement and confusion, and amidst a great shower 
of poisoned arrows that rained down on them, to 
corral as hurriedly as possible, at a point on the 
prairie ten miles from the first water ahead, and 
twenty-five from the nearest on the trail to the rear. 

Fortunately the weather had been crisp and cool, 
the road had been very good, game had been abun- 
dant, and there was, in consequence, a plenteous 
supply of fresh meat, buffalo and antelope, in the 
train. 

There was also on hand, in the kegs and barrels 
fastened to the running gear of the wagons, a much 
larger supply of water than would have been the 
case if, during the three days they had been travel- 
ing from the last stream, the trainmen had subsisted 
on the bacon and salt pork that constituted their 
regular meat rations. 

The Indians, however, who had attacked them 
and, after a desperate fight and severe loss on both 
sides in men and animals, had been repulsed, knew 
that, sooner or later, the water supply would give out. 

They also knew that the trail passed through a 
deep gorge to the front, and a canyon to the rear, 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS’ SIEGE. 123 

and that the train must go through either one or 
the other before it could reach water in any direction. 

The outfit was a large one, and, effectually cor- 
ralled as it was, a secure fortress against any Indian 
attack, for the people comprising it. 

And furthermore* nothing in the tactics of those 
red men contemplated an assault or anything half so 
formidable* 

No, their plan was to wait until the train hooked 
up and strung out ; for then, their system of warfare 
would give them the vantage. And, unfortunately, 
there was not a teamster, or other person there who 
knew that fact, or, knowing it, gave it sufficient 
weight* 

So, on the seventh day the trainmen raised the 
siege, and whoa-hawed their steers into line, and 
renewed their slow, westward march. 

The last wagon had hardly pulled out and taken 
its place in the long, lumbering line, when, on both 
sides, as if by magic, the horizon became the back- 
ground of two large bodies of savages, who swooped 
down toward them, like two hordes of wild Mame- 
lukes, and breaking up into several parties, began 
circling and discharging arrows in showers at them. 

How long this would have lasted, no one can con- 
jecture, had not a considerable body of mounted 
riflemen, scouts and cowboys, debouching from the 
deep gorge ahead, come galloping to the rescue. 
At sight of these the Indians vanished almost as 
suddenly as they had appeared. And the rescuers 
did not pursue them. In fact, they had been sent 
from a garrison, some miles ahead, to meet and 
escort this very train, which was laden with one 
year’s supplies for that very fort. 

The commanding officer, having learned from 
scouts that a large, Indian war party had started out 
on the trail to waylay whatever they might come 
across, had hurried the departure of the troops with 
the very opportune result narrated. 

While under fire the train had begun to form a 


\24 MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

corral again to the front, and some of the teams had 
succeeded in massing there, while others, at intervals, 
because of cattle shot down, could not move, and 
by impeding those in their rear wrought much con- 
fusion, and no little desperation and dismay. 

Every man knew only too well what the con- 
sequences would be if the savages once got the upper 
hand of them. And they mustered all their courage 
to avert such a terrible catastrophe. 

Although the onset had been short-lived, it had 
caused sad havoc, and some time ensued before order 
again reigned. 

When it did finally, and the wagon-masters were 
■enabled to take stock of the situation they found 
they had been pretty badly crippled all around. 
Dead and wounded oxen, and dead and wounded 
men, sprinkled the prairie much more numerously 
than they had thought. 

“ Especially had the cattle succumbed to the 
'deadly missiles of the enemy, and fully one-eighth 
•of those of the entire train were dead or dying. 

It must be remembered that there had been two 
attacks made on the outfit, both nearly on the same 
ground. 

But the gallant men who had come to the rescue, 
were not slow in supplementing the succor they had 
given, with generous proffers of the use of their 
animals, and in a short time very comical looking 
harnesses were improvised, and horses and steers, in 
amiable companionship, were tugging away in 
united effort to pull the wagons with their precious 
freight through to their destination. 

The riders of the horses took the places of the 
dead teamsters, and did very well as substitutes. 

Some of them in fact “ had been there before,” 
and were quite expert in their manipulation of the 
teams. 

All the incidents of this event loomed up in the 
chief wagon-master’s memory, as vividly as if an 


Rescued after a three days siege. 125 


occurrence of but yesterday, and he was in doubt 
what to do. 

With the single exception of that one train, as far 
as he knew from his own experience, and as far as 
he had been told by others well qualified to speak, 
the savages generally, in trying to take a train or 
camp risked their chances on a single, wild, impetu- 
ous dash. 

If they succeeded or were repulsed, in either case 
the game was always up. Success with them in- 
variably meant the massacre of those they defeated. 

It was not for him to say, solely on his own judg- 
ment, how it would be in the present instance, he 
argued. 

The prairies are swarming with the red devils, 
but Custer and his cavalry, as well as numerous 
other soldiers are scouting about, in every direction, 
in search of them. 

Troops are everywhere in the saddle, and on the 
march, and not merely loitering in comfortable forts, 
waiting for news of massacres. 

Furthermore, the train is in camp between two 
large forts, neither of which is a hundred miles 
away, and we are also in plain sight of the overland 
mail route that passes over another trail, joined to 
the one we are on fifteen miles ahead. 

“ I mention these facts,’' he said, “ as a possible 
cause for the withdrawal of the Indians, if they 
are aware of them,” and he thought there could be 
no doubt on that score. 

“ They have given no signs of their continuance in 
the vicinity for full seventy hours,” he added. 

*‘ This indicates one of two things.” Either they 
are gone entirely, or they have laid some cunning 
plan, and are still lying silently in wait to pounce on 
us again as soon as our force is divided by the sortie 
of a party for water. 

“ Such a sortie must be made, and they know it 
as well as we do. 

“ Whatever the situation might be, whatever the. 


t26 


Moultrie de kale. 


doubt and danger, the sortie must be made; we 
must have water and that very soon. 

“Who will be the forlorn hope ? 

“ Who will volunteer to form a party of twenty 
to sally forth for this much-needed article ? 

“ Whoever does, must make up his mind to face 
some pretty lively music. For, if the Indians are 
lying around in ambush, probably not a soul will get 
back alive* 

“ I do not want a single man to think of starting, 
unless he first takes this prospect into full account, 
and then makes up his mind to keep cool in spite 
of everything, and do his level best.” 

None of his listeners could help realizing that 
they must have water, or die right where they 
were. 

The children were suffering tortures. 

Of course, they could not hold out with the pa- 
tience of grown people. 

Night too was again creeping on and therefore 
there was no time for delay. 

He then asked all who were willing to volunteer 
for the venture to step at once over the chain, to 
the outside of the barricade. 

And the words were scarce out of his mouth when 
a general rush was made in that direction. 

This surprised and embarrassed but also highly 
pleased him. Yes, he thought, he could trust such 
men. And now arose the question, whom from 
amongst them should he select ? He must deter- 
mine who are best fitted to go, and who to remain 
as a reserve. 

He walked back, thoughtfully, and consulted with 
the contractors, and they finally agreed to appoint 
Jack Crawford as leader, and authorize him to choose 
his followers. 

The men cheered when, a few moments later, this 
arrangement was announced. 

“ I don’t hanker after it,” said Jack, his face flush- 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS* SIEGE. 1 27 

ing, as he tightened his waist-belt and pushed his 
revolver further down into its holster. 

“If any of you boys are the least ambitious, you 
can have it. — I’ll resign.” 

But they answered him with a laugh and rallying 
remarks, then looked toward the women. They 
were rough-hewn cavaliers — Americans ! 

Everyone knew that when Jack superintended, in 
any desperate venture, there would be neither laches 
nor mistakes. 

He was a strict disciplinarian, vigilant, careful and 
fearless, without any of the characteristics of a 
martinet. 

Everyone placed implicit reliance on his judg- 
ment, caution, experience and nerve, and felt that he 
would neither omit necessary nor impose unnecessary 
obligation or restraint, and the final out-come, in 
many previous, serious situations, had justified that 
reliance. 

It will therefore be appreciated that his presence, 
with this train, at this time, was in the nature of a 
godsend. The all-seeing Almighty was here again. 

A consultation was now held between the head 
men and our gallant frontier-man, and a program 
promptly arranged, For there was not a moment 
to lose, the shades of night were falling. 

Meanwhile, all hands carefully examined their fire- 
arms, and, where necessary, replenished their supply 
of ammunition. 

Finally, everything — every detail for any and all 
possible contingencies — being settled, Jack was 
asked to announce his following. All hands silently 
crowded around him. 

The majority of men, under like circumstances, 
would have selected fellows of acknowledged, un- 
doubted coolness in danger, and expertness in the 
use of fire-arms. 

Herein Jack differed from the majority of men. 

He chose ten of the best shots, who were sinewy 
and quick as well, and of small stature, and then 


128 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


picked out the ten brawniest and most muscular 
stalwarts in the train, to complete his party. 

While he was doing this, the water kegs scattered 
here and there among the wagons were collected by 
others, and slung on “ spreaders ” and wagon poles. 

There was, however, much disappointment and 
resentment manifested by several who thought they 
should have been selected for the sortie. 

“ He’ll never make the bilge with that gang, if 
the red Niggers jump him,” said one, very bitterly. 

“ Your head’s on top for once,” spoke another. 

“See here, Crawford, old fel,” exclaimed a third, 
beckoning him aside — a third who was an intimate : 

“Why ain’t I in this lay-out? Ain’t I good 
enough for ye ? My carcass would be as sweet for 
coyotes as any of that ar lot. 

“ What’s the matter ? Are ye goin’ back on an ole 
pard ? Didn’t I alius stick ?” 

“ I want you where you will be more useful, 
where there’ll be more important work if the reds 
show up,” responded Jack, pleasantly. 

“ Oh ! stuff and gammon ! Rattlesnakes chew 
me! You doubt me !”replied the other, excitedly 
shaking his forefinger in gesticulation. 

“ What yer givin’ me, anyhow ? What work can 
be more important ?” 

“ Look here !” exclaimed Jack, in mock alarm, as 
he eyed the upraised finger, comically. 

“ Is that loaded ?” 

“ Is what loaded ?” 

Inquired the other, with an unfeigned sneer. 

“That!” 

Answered Jack, pointing to his finger and smiling 
brightly. 

“ Put it down ! It might go off.” 

The grumbler was silenced, and giving Crawford 
a reproachful look, he walked sullenly up the corral. 

The preparations being completed, the water car- 
riers; the ten stalwarts, shouldering the kegs, and 
escorted by the ten quick and wiry best shots, who 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS' SIEGE. 1 29 


were their appointed guard, started for the river. 
Several empty casks were suspended from each 
pole, either end of which rested on a stout shoulder. 

These they were ordered to bring back quickly,, 
filled or empty, in case Indians attacked them, while 
the guard were to cover their retreat as best they 
could. 

Another party of the best shots left in the train, 
headed by our grumbling friend with the loaded 
forefinger, was ordered to stand in readiness, and, 
dash to the rescue against any attacking party. 

Under no consideration were the kegs to be- 
abandoned ! “ Die first!” ordered Jack. No need: 

of order like that to men like that. 

Every other gun in the train was, at the same 
time, judiciously placed at the barricades. 

No precaution that the wisdom and experience of 
the trainmasters could suggest was omitted. And 
the advance of the forlorn hope was watched breath- 
lessly. 

On they went watchfully, cautiously, steadily. 
The two skirmishers, deployed to the extreme front, 
gave no sign, as they receded, of the discovery of 
anything suspicious. 

Soon they were on lower ground and out of sight, 
hidden from view by the intervening bushes. 

Still all continued quiet. The suspense grew 
painful, terrible ! 

“ They’re at the river by this time,” said the head 
wagon-master, about five minutes later. 

Just then a treamster was noticed hurrying from 
the other end of the train, excitedly speaking to 
those he passed, distributed at intervals through 
its length, all of whom looked off into the sand-hills, 
to the north-east. 

It took him but a brief time, running at the top of 
his speed, to reach the front barricade and when he 
got there, all out of breath, his exclamations were 
like a succession of electric alarms. The author’s 
philology is too scant to state in one. word that he. 


130 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


was excited, blown, intrepid, hot for a “ scrimmage,” 
and eager to let all hands join in, and tenderly 
thoughtful of the women and children. 

“ They’re cornin’ boys ! sneakin’ up !” 

He shouted. 

“ I saw the flash of their guns and trappins in the 
sunlight, way back there !” pointing northeastwardly. 

“ Nearly a mile away I saw them pass between 
two hills! The sun did it ! If the sun hadn’t been 
shinin’ I wouldn’t a seen ’em ! It shone on their 
guns and things.” And considerable excitement fol- 
lowed this announcement, and the head wagon-mas- 
ter hastened to the flank from whence the messenger 
had come. 

There he learned that a considerable body of men 
on horseback, whom the guard could not clearly dis- 
tinguish, but nevertheless saw, had crossed a distant 
gap in the hills, about a mile to the east. 

The topography of the country aided materially to 
obscure them, and also hide their identity. 

The peculiar shade thrown upon, and the configur- 
ation of the intermediate space and background 
being such that, but for the reflection of the sun- 
light on their arms and accoutrements, the unknown 
party might have passed unobserved. 

‘‘Were they powerful reinforcements that the 
attacking party had been all this time awaiting the 
arrival of ?” the chief wagon-master asked himself, 
in dire alarm, while, to all outward appearance, cool 
and self-contained. 

“ How terrible !” he said to himself. And then his 
face became set, with a hard, desperate, determined 
expression. But he spoke not another word. 

“ We’ll keep a sharp lookout and be ready for 
em !” said the man in charge of the squad at that 
point. And then, while all eyes were strained in the 
direction indicated, there suddenly rose from behind 
the nearest sand hill, not five hundred yards away, 
and quickly mounted to its top, a cavalry soldier. 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS' SIEGE. 1 3 1 

holding his gun in his right hand, at “ Advance car- 
bine,” and his bridle rein in the left. 

On he came, at a steady walk straight toward 
them, his horse kicking the loose sand in showers, 
as he trudged down the hill-side. 

Then another, and another, and still another ap- 
peared, until several were in view, scattered at inter- 
vals of about twenty yards apart, all marching 
abreast, as straight as a plumb line. A cavalry skir- 
mish line it was. 

Finally the head of the column, marching by twos, 
emerged from a defile less than three hundred yards 
away, and directly opposite the train. And wild 
cheers of relief went up spontaneously from the 
rescued teamsters, and the greenhorns and the vet- 
erans embraced and actually kissed each other. 

Already the water carriers were returning with 
filled kegs, ignorant of what had occurred, and Jack 
Crawford coming up reported that the Indians had 
carried off their dead, and had most outrageously 
carved the carcasses of their ponies that had been 
killed. 

When the troops arrived within about one hun- 
dred yards they were halted, and the captain in 
command galloped up and asked for “ the man in 
charge of the outfit.” 

The head wagon-master at once stepped forward 
from the crowd assembled at the front barricade. 

Meanwhile, a lieutenant quietly ordered the 
soldiers to “left front into line” and “dismount,” 
after which they slipped the bits from the mouths of 
their horses and stood by them while they cropped 
the grass. 

This same chief wagon-master was a fine specimen 
of physique, being six feet two inches in height, with 
broad, square shoulders, and a figure that tapered 
downward like a boy’s top. 

His waist looked wasp-like and womanish, and his 
chest was massive and deep. 

His head was unusually small and his hair long, 


i3 2 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


His brown beard and moustache were long and 
flowing and almost silken in fineness. 

High top-boots encased his shapely feet and 
limbs, nearly to the hips, and his faded and worn 
buckskin gauntlets reached to his elbows. 

His broad-brimmed, light-colored slouch hat, large, 
red and blue handkerchief, tied loosely around his 
neck, and his waist-belt filled with cartridges, a 
brace of pistols, and a long, dangerous knife, these 
tout ensemble, as he presented himself before the 
military officer with a Winchester rifle in hand, 
gave him a decidedly brigandish appearance. 

The captain alighted, and passed his bridle-rein to 
the trumpeter in his rear, who immediately rode off 
to a patch of green and succulent looking grass, 
some eighty yards toward the river. 

After an introduction to the contractors, they and 
the officer retired down the corral, and entered into 
a long and earnest talk, and the lieutenant, at a sig- 
nal from the commander, had the cavalry men lead 
off to a point about six hundred yards up the river, 
where they unsaddled, hobbled, and turned their 
horses out to graze, placing a strong guard in their 
midst. 

Vedettes were also immediately posted on prom- 
inent hills, some distance away, in different direc- 
tions, overlooking the surrounding country, to give 
the alarm if Indians showed themselves, by riding 
in a circle. 

The guard amongst the horses had orders to watch 
the videttes vigilantly, and report any signal from 
them promptly to the senior officer in camp, and 
at the same time secure the animals. Rapid riding 
meant, — 

The Indians are near and approaching, and there 
is no time for delay. 

All the particulars of the attack on the train and 
the losses sustained were communicated in detail 
to this military commander, and, after a bumper or 
two of good, strong, stimulating refreshment, he ex- 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS’ SIEGE. 1 33 

plained how he happened to run across them so 
opportunely. 

“ Whether it was the one that attacked you or 
not, I am unable to say,” he began. 

“ But on the upper road, at the first stage ranch 
west of the fort, a big party of “ Reds ” showed up 
six days ago. 

“ They jumped the east-bound mail, just as it was 
coming in, killing four passengers and the driver, and 
after setting fire to the coach moved south with the 
four horses they had captured. 

“ I haven’t the least doubt but that they are the 
same fellows that gave you such a lively tussel. 

“The pony tracks in the hills so far as could be dis- 
cerned, and the evidences I have discovered of their 
short bivouacs, are about three days old if I can 
correctly judge. 

“ At those places it was plain to see, all around on 
the grass, that the tracks were those of unshod 
mustangs. 

“ I came across plenty of proofs of the presence 
near here of a party about the size you speak of. 
And everything indicated that they had probably 
hung around for two or three days after you had 
repulsed them. 

“ I wish my guide was here. He served me a nice 
trick after promising not to touch a drop until the 
scout was finished, or at least until I gave him per- 
mission to take a drink. 

“ Had he kept his word I could have been here four 
or five days ago, because he is familiar with every 
inch of the country, and could have come by a bee- 
line. 

“ But he did not. He took the first opportunity 
that presented to break it. 

“ I might have raised your siege, at least, if I did 
not succeed in punishing the Reds. 

“ I am very sorry he did not keep his word. 

“ I left him dead drunk at the stage ranch, where he 


134 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


froze to a couple of bottles of forty-rod, and wrestled 
with them until they threw him. 

“ The attack of the Indians I am after, on the mail 
coach, was seen plainly from the station, and after 
they let up and moved south, a runner was sent into 
the fort and reported it. 

“ Our expedition, of six companies and a squad of 
scouts, had just returned from the northwest, pretty 
well played out after a big fruitless chase on a large 
Sioux trail. 

“ These fellows who worried you are undoubtedly 
Cheyennes. 

“ Well, our party was cut up into three detachments, 
one of which went straight south, and one southeast, 
while I, with my command, came to the trail at the 
stage station, which I took up and followed until it 
scattered, so that I lost it. 

“ I continued on southwest, however, thinking they 
would turn up somewhere on this overland route, 
lying in wait for something, and the rest you know. 

“ We have had a hard march, have been in the 
saddle almost constantly for thirty-six hours — and 
besides, were nearly used up when we came in off 
the Sioux trail. 

“ Our horses are completely broken down with 
lameness, sorebacks and overwork. 

“ Pass me that jug, Colonel,” he added. 

“I’m as stiff as a ramrod and maybe another dose 
will limber me up some.” 

The jug was passed. 

While the conversation just repeated was going 
on, Crawford, at the rear end of the corral, was 
speaking cheery words to the children, in the hear- 
ing of the ladies, at the same time assisting Mr. 
Foster in the filling of his buckets and various other 
vessels with water from the kegs just brought. 

Meanwhile fires were built, and preparations were 
underway for the first coffee had for five days. 

“ You must take supper with us, Mr. Crawford, 
said Mrs. Foster, smilingly. 


RESCUED AFTER A THREE DAYS' SIEGE. 13$ 

“ For look at these, ain’t they a surprise, though ?” 

And then the good woman, her face aglow with 
pleasure, opened a blue gingham sun-bonnet she 
held in her hand, and exposed to view quite a num- 
ber of fresh eggs, that had been laid by the indus- 
trious ones among the hundred or more hens she 
was taking to Colorado. (Crawford’s chivalrous 
soul wanted to knight those hens on the instant). 

“ These will be just, just too delicious for any- 
thing, with bacon and some of my nice, hot biscuit, 
and Government Java, and you are entitled to a 
great, big heaping dish, for having brought the 
water.” 

Jack said in a solemn tone, turning his eyes up- 
ward : 

I am willing to be sacrificed, my dear Mrs. 
Foster.” 

And seating himself on the bottom of an up-turned 
horse-pail, he rattled off a constant flow of rippling 
small talk, while the savory meal was being cooked, 
and indulged in homely but pithy retort and repar- 
tee with the ladies, until, from the merriment of the 
little party, one would scarce imagine they had been 
in such recent great peril and terror. 

Although the men killed had been buried, the car- 
casses of the slain cattle had been merely rolled 
against different openings between the wagons to 
serve as additional breastworks. 

These were now being dragged to a distance, and 
all night long a hideous and snarling requiem was 
performed over them, by the ravenous and quarrel- 
some coyotes, engaged in rending and devouring 
their flesh. 

The wounded men of the train were skillfully 
attended by the surgeon and hospital steward, hap- 
pily with the troops, and in more than one case that 
attendance came just in the nick of time. 

The torn and lacerated flesh, from neglect, was 
fast becoming gangrenous. 

During the next two days, which were given to 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


136 

recuperation, the contractors busied therttseiveS tun- 
ning over their inventory, in order to determine 
what particular* goods they could best afford to un- 
load and leave behind, for, with their diminished 
number of animals, they would not be able to con- 
tinue the transportation of all in the train. 

Meanwhile Crawford occupied himself actively 
with a gang of teamsters, preparing a cache at a 
point in the nearest hill, which had been finally 
determined on after an exhaustive search for the 
best place. 


CHAPTER XII. 

WESTWARD HO ! AGAIN. 

On the afternoon of the second day, a long train 
of sixty odd wagons was descried coming from the 
west and its nearer approach developed that the 
owner was an acquaintance who, two years before, 
under very similar circumstances, had been relieved 
by our friends, and liberally supplied, at cost, with 
provisions and cattle sufficient to carry him through 
comfortably to his journey’s end, thereby averting a 
cache. 

The cavalry had continued in their bivouac care- 
fully nursing their horses, the farrier had tightened 
all loose shoes, and the soldiers and train people had 
become quite intimate and friendly. 

The commanding officer, as a wise precaution, had 
required his men to keep their carbines and belts with 
them constantly, wherever they went, but otherwise 
had allowed them all the freedom that could be 
reasonably desired. 

When the head wagon-master and contractors the 
next morning began negotiations for the purchase 


WESTWARD HO ! AGAIN, 1 37 

of every steer that could be spared from the almost 
empty train of the stranger, they did not meet with 
that liberal treatment they had accorded him two 
years previous. They found now, that “ the shoe 
was on the other foot.” 

There was no alternative, however, and the un- 
reasonable prices demanded, had either to be paid, 
or consequences more disastrous be incurred. 

Shippers in those days judged of the efficiency of 
contractors by results almost solely. 

If they loaded and got underway with despatch, 
and made their long tedious and perilous trips with 
expedition, delivering the freight consigned to their 
care at its proper destination thoroughly intact, 
then they were pronounced royal, reliable, trust- 
worthy fellows, full of snap, energy and fertile inven- 
tion to overcome obstacles, and possessed of practi- 
cal good sense and scrupulous honesty. 

And, as a result, they could not begin by half to 
fill the orders that deluged them. 

If, on the other hand, continuous heavy rains and 
consequent high and impassable streams delayed 
progress, and interspells of freezing put a thick icy 
crust on the surface of the thoroughly soaked and 
almost bottomless prairie trails, over which the heavy 
wagons had to plough tediously, or if violent thun- 
der storms terrified and stampeded their stock, en- 
tailing the irrecoverable loss of many cattle, in such 
cases only a moiety of sympathy or charity was 
felt for the unfortunate freighter by the disappointed 
and ofttimes exasperated merchant or mine-owner, 
who, because of the non-receipt of his goods on time 
frequently suffered a serious loss. 

It is pretty much the same on the Indian frontier 
as it is in large cities. That merchant whose enter- 
prise first stocks the market with new and season- 
able goods is sure to be the merchant who, every- 
thing else being equal, will receive the largest pat- 
ronage and thrive best. 

Buyers from personal considerations of friendship 


>33 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


will, for awhile, purchase in preference from personal 
friends. 

But when those friends fail to carry in stock what 
they want, or get the same tardily and late, it is not 
human nature to keep up inconveniencing oneself 
from such “ personal considerations of friendship.” 

Hence both the frontier and metropolitan mer- 
chant who “ gets there,” with his wares ahead of all 
competitors is sure to command the bulk of trade. 

In view of this fact the mercantile beheading of 
the unfortunate freighter, whom the Indians and 
the elements retarded in the delivery of his mer- 
chandise, cannot be marveled at. 

Though the making of a cache was not of frequent 
necessity with overland trains, there were causes that 
compelled some very extensive ones at times, and, in 
the preceding fall, over $100,000 worth of goods 
had been unloaded from a single large train, and 
buried in five different places within an area of six 
hundred yards. 

A certain frontier honor always made these tem- 
porary interments of property sacred, and by every 
plainsman it was considered a heinous crime to dis- 
turb them. 

But there were swarms of boodle searchers and 
“ body snatchers,” who “ to put money in their 
purse ” ignored this sentiment in reference to these 
burials, with fully as much indifference and reckless- 
ness as inhuman grave robbers, near medical colleges, 
ignore the sanctity of human charnel-houses. 

And whenever a cache was robbed, suspicion and 
accusation invariably implicated “ boss freighters,” 
and coupled them, in criminality and hateful com- 
plicity, with the real robbers. 

If not openly denounced as swindlers and thieves, 
their guilt was, at least, covertly whispered and 
meanly, under cover of confidence, — “ strict confix 
dence you know — ” insinuated or asserted, with wise 
nods and expressive looks, by mischief makers and 
scandal mongers. 


WESTWARD HO ! AGAIN. 


*39 


The world has a host, ever active, to whom scandal 
is the breath of their nostrils. The men who ran 
this outfit knew these facts only too well, and their 
honor was at stake. They were physically and 
morally brave. 

And, actuated by a heartfelt desire to faithfully 
fulfill their contracts, and a determination to do so 
at all hazards ! they hurriedly acceded to the exor- 
bitant impositions on their helplessness, and paid to 
the east-bound train twice as much per head for 
half-serviceable cattle, as that train had afterward to 
pay for prime oxen to replace them, when outfit- 
ting, later on, for another westward trip. 

Therefore there was no need to cache any of the 
merchandise, and the train hooked up and moved 
on next morning. 

The cavalry meanwhile saddled, mounted and 
made a short scout up the river, swinging around 
finally, and returning by a wide detour to the fort 
it came from. 

Throughout the exciting scenes just narrated 
Fatty Forbush maintained unusual quiet. 

He was the proud owner of a revolver of French 
manufacture, and a breech-loading rifle of English 
make, with both of which he used metallic car- 
tridges. 

He also carried a formidable looking bowie-knife, 
and all together looked quite warlike indeed. 

Thus armed and equipped he placed himself, 
promptly, wherever his chief of squad ordered, and 
aside from his alacrity, cheerfully helped in all their 
duties — first this one and then that, among the train 
hands, doing it unostentatiously and winning golden 
opinions that served him well, when he was, later on, 
stricken down with fever and lost all his superfluous 
avoirdupois. 

It was like bread cast upon the water returning. 

He was attended faithfully during his illness, and 
though the nursing was rude, and the resources for 


I4O MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

comfort very slender and scarce, he passed the crisis 
safely and at last fully recovered. 

“You’re climated now and down ter yer fitin’ 
weight,” was the pleasant remark from one trainman, 
as Fatty again sat at the camp fire, and ate his first 
meal after rising from his rough sick-bed, on top of 
a pile of boxes in one of the wagons. 

From that hour he rapidly gained strength, and 
was “sound as a dollar” when Centipede Canyon 
was reached. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

MOULTRIE, GROWN RICH, EXTENDS HIS BUSINES 

Two years after the events recorded in the preced- 
ing chapter, Moultrie, under the firm style of “ De 
Kalb & Co.,” entered into copartnership with a sut- 
ler — or “ post-trader,” as he was latter on styled — 
who had several stores, and the inside track on army 
and Indian contracts at numerous Western forts and 
agencies for hay, fuel, grain, etc. 

The land about Centipede Canyon had been pre- 
empted and settled with wonderful rapidity, and the 
percentage of lawless bullies, usually incident to 
such sudden mushroom growth, was, very fortunately, 
remarkably small. 

This blessing the people there had a sincere appre- 
ciation of and took good care to perpetuate, by serv- 
ing timely notice on any one of that class who put 
in an appearance with a view of staying. 

The DeKalb mill had been built and had thrived 
exceedingly, and — to use a slang phrase, the owner 
“had coined lots of tin.” 


MOULTRIE EXTENDS HIS BUSINESS, 


I41 


Moultrie and Bertha had kept up a constant cor- 
respondence, and now, as a result, the westward 
emigration fever had seized upon Mrs. Poinsett. 

In i860, if any one had suggested to her that con- 
ducting a hotel in a territory, was a sphere in which 
a lady of taste and refinement would shine, she 
would have retorted : 

“Yes, a lady of masculine traits.” Now Presto ! 

Whether the arguments of Moultrie, coming 
second hand to her through Bertha, or the reflection 
of maturer years alone, or both combined had 
changed her views, no one undertook to decide. No 
mortal could tell. 

That they were changed is evident by the follow- 
ing letter, “ slip ” she called it, in Bertha’s answer to 
“ your last ” — from Moultrie. 

Moultrie in this “ last ” had dwelt with some 
length on the wish of his uncle to sell the hotel at 
the mines to him, as his other largely increasing bus- 
iness absorbed all his time, and carried him for pro- 
tracted periods to distant points, during which 
time the management was not satisfactory. 

In fact, he had not at any time intended to play 
the role of Boniface, but had originally established 
the hotel simply for the accommodation of his em- 
ployes and such other persons as came that way to 
do business with him. 

His store had also been established for the same 
purpose. 

“ I’m not cut out for a shopkeeper,” he had re- 
peatedly said to his nephew, and as Moultrie had a 
perfect passion for the calling, the entire manage- 
ment had eventually been transferred to him. 

And it did seem marvelous the success with 
which he, so young and inexperienced, conducted 
the business. 

Freighters, after having in vain tried to supply 
their wants at other stores on the trail, never failed 
to find at Centipede Canyon all they were in need of. 

Everything under the sun that could possibly be 


* 4 - 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


called for was in stock, some things sometimes stale, 
but there all the same, and as fresh as could be ex- 
pected. 

Fine goods and coarse goods, and choice and com- 
mon wares, alike, filled the shelves and drawers of 
Moultrie’s establishment. Everything for house- 
holders, office and shop, doctors, lawyers, cowboys, 
and farmers. 

After his advent there, army officers and their wives 
did not have to send away off to some large city in 
civilization for choice perfumes and fancy articles. 

Centipede Canyon always had them. 

At the time Mrs. Poinsett sent her “ slip,” the 
place had grown into a thriving town, with a post- 
office, court-house, two churches, one Protestant, the 
other Catholic, and a schoolhouse. 

A bank, with an opera house upstairs, showed 
where people could wisely fund and foolishly spend 
their money. 

Moultrie thought he would like to take the hotel, 
enlarge and thoroughly renovate and re-equip it, 
and conduct it on shares, if he could get a desirable 
manager or manageress. The income from it was 
splendid. 

A good hotel, competently managed, he clearly saw 
would prove a small bonanza. He wanted this one 
“ a bonanza.” 

Mrs. Poinsett’s “slip ” had said: 

“ About that hotel at the mines, I have been 
thinking that it would be a field in which one, even 
a lady , after years of comparative inaction, might 
find some healthy friction to divert attention from 
unpleasant retrospection.” Precious, true wife. 

“ Something to limber up one’s mental hinges, so 
to speak, don’t you know. Moultrie, dear, do you 
think a true woman can be unwomanly ? 

“ Then there would be constant occupation, too, 
and such sights, you know !” she continued. 

“ One could not find time to mope and brood over 
joyless reminiscences, for there would be no leisure 


MOULTRIE EXTENDS HIS BUSINESS. 


M3 


for it ; besides, the air there is so bracing and healthy, 
if all your glowing accounts to Bertha are to be re- 
lied on, and I believe they are, for you were always 
the very personification of truth. 

“ I am a great coward, and really don’t know what 
to think or do, but have lately become ‘ possest ’ — 
(only that archaism will express my meaning ) — * pos- 
sest ’ of a longing desire to undertake some such an 
enterprise. Don’t laugh at me, now ! it is true, hon- 
estly true. I believe I could bring some pretty good 
management to bear in my favor, so far as the house- 
hold part is concerned, but probably I would make a 
poor stick in everything else. 

“ Yet I don’t care ! I won’t beat around the bush ! 
I will say at once, since you speak of a manageress , 
which means a woman, of course, that if I will suit, 
and you will make the arrangements to get me out 
there, I will go into that hotel myself, if it does not 
cost too much.” Woman all over, “ if it does not 
cost too much.” 

“ I would like to try the novelty of the thing. 

“ I have been to St. Louis since first thinking of 
it, and learned I could raise $10,000 on my property 
there, and I must save my cash in bank for Bertha. 

“ I would wish to reserve my farm and village 
property here, to fall back on, in an emergency. 

“ I have two or three trustworthy people in mind, 
to whom I could let them at good rental. 

“ This, now, is my business answer to your adver- 
tisement in Bertha’s letter. What do you think of 
it ?” 

It is needless to add that it was just what Moul- 
trie had wanted all along. 

When it arrived at Centipede Canyon he was 
away on a protracted trip, completing arrangements 
for his new ventures at the Indian stations and mili- 
tary posts, heretofore referred to. He was gone 
more than two months, traveling in his own prairie 
carriage, and was accompanied by Fatty Forbush, 
whose newspaper enterprise had proven unsuccess- 


144 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


ful, and who had finally arranged to look after 
Moultrie's interests at one of the new stores. 

The carriage was drawn by four fine, hardy mules, 
that could average seven miles an hour daily, for 
eight or ten hours, over good prairie roads. 

Besides the driver, Moultrie was accompanied by 
a bright colored boy, a sort of cook and valet com- 
bined, and a tall, sinewy Mexican. 

Both these personages were mounted on stout 
mustang ponies, with no end to their power of en- 
durance. The Mexican was an expert in live-stock 
affairs, and superintended all of Moultrie’s specula- 
tions in that line. He was his companion on this 
trip for the purpose of looking about and reporting 
his observations in that line, in the new country to 
which they were going. 

Seftor Ysleta, that was his name, was a stately 
representative of his swarthy and proud race, 
and was about six feet in height, and in his close- 
fitting riding suit, looked slight in build. 

His eyes, eyebrows, moustache and hair were as 
black as midnight. 

He was as straight as an arrow, active and grace- 
ful, and possessed the strength of a giant. 

His mother, of pure Castilian blood, had died in 
his early boyhood, and his father had subsequently 
wandered from their beautiful home, (under the very 
shadow of the halls of the Montezumas, and facing 
perennially snow-capped mountains) and had finally, 
in the wilds of New Mexico, fallen in love with and 
married a beautiful Navajo maiden, whose affection- 
ate nature had won his heart, and in whose loving 
arms he at last had died from a dozen cruel wounds, 
inflicted by a party of her tribe, that had fomented 
a quarrel and then beset and killed him in a brutal 
and cowardly manner. 

Although the Don had linked his destiny with 
this beautiful Indian girl, he nevertheless, through- 
out all the varied scenes of his new life, clung pas- 
sionately and sadly to the memory of the gentle 


MOULTRIE EXTENDS HIS BUSINESS 1 45 

donna, Sefior Ysleta’s mother, with whom he had 
lived most happily in bygone decades. 

The one great, soul-absorbing dream of his devoted 
son Gomez, was his ultimate meeting with that 
sainted mother at some future period, amid a halo 
of glory, in a blissful beyond, far more brilliant and 
gorgeous than the entrancing scene he remembered 
so vividly, when the blazing sun, blue sky and snow- 
mantled mountain-tops in the background, shone 
above his beautiful birthplace nestling in a green 
valley of tropical luxuriance. 

In front lay the quaint old city Mexico, and the 
embattled heights of Chepultepec. 

Solomon Dilyard (or “ Sol,” as he was generally 
called), the colored valet, although black, was “ true 
blue.” 

So at least thought Moultrie and Gomez Ysleta. 

He was beyond the shadow of a doubt, thoroughly 
loyal to his master and that master’s best interests. 

He had been in Moultrie’s employ twenty months, 
and his honesty, fidelity, and gratitude for consider- 
ate treatment, gave the lie to that croaking senti- 
ment, prevalent with some people, which pronounces 
the African race ungrateful, or else, proved him to 
be a shining exception to the rule. 

Some two years previous he had engaged to 
accompany an officer of the army from a Western 
city to a remote frontier garrison. The promise of 
good wages had been a great inducement. Subse- 
quently, on account of some disagreement, he had 
been confined, on bread and water, several days in a 
military guard-house, and afterward had been turned 
out, houseless and homeless on the prairie, without 
money or friends. 

Starting toward the rising sun, early one morning, 
and catching up with an overland wagon train, he 
had begged permission to accompany it toward the 
States, promising to make himself as useful as he 
could in consideration therefor. 

Such was his story when, half starved and nearly 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


I46 

frozen, he presented himself, a pitiable looking 
object, at De Kalb’s store and asked for food and 
work. 

He was willing “ to do anything,” he said, to earn 
money enough to pay his way back to his home. 
He was employed, and his willingness and activity 
gave much satisfaction. 

Moultrie, one day, called him aside and said: 

“ A train for the States will pass here within a 
week, and if you wish I will arrange for you to go 
with it, and work your way in. This will enable you 
to keep your wages as a stake to begin business with 
when you get home. They amount to nearly a hun- 
dred dollars and you being a pretty good barber 
could buy an outfit and start a barber-shop with 
three-fourths of it, if you only manage right. I 
would rather have you stay and work for me, how- 
ever, if you had just as leave.” 

“ Sol ” hesitated. One hundred dollars, all his 
own, to shake under the noses of those who had 
been his more prosperous neighbors of his race, at 
his old home, and who had called him — 

“ A pooah niggah, worf nuffin in de worl — ” 
was a grand inducement to go — a great tempta- 
tion. 

“Wait a little, Massa De Kalb,” he replied. 

“As you say sometimes, let me sleep ober it.” 

“ Very well, Sol,” Moultrie responded, “ sleep over 
it, and let me have your answer to-morrow.” 

The next day Sol unbosomed himself wholly to his 
employer, assuring him he did so — 

“Only kase, massa,” said he, “ yo is de hones- 
tisest gemman I eber seed.” 

Moultrie pointed out the emptiness of the satis- 
faction he thirsted for, and told him he would be 
worse off than ever when his money was gone. He 
would be tempted to squander it foolishly, and would 
yield to the temptation, spite of himself. Sensible 
people would despise him all through and, in the 
end, he would be looked on more than ever as tri. 


MOULTRIE IN THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR.' l\J 

fling, and finally he would be disgusted with him- 
self.” 

“ Why not wait,” 

Moultrie continued, “ until you can take several 
hundred home, which you will be perfectly able to 
do, in a couple of years, if you save up as you have 
in the past few months, and continue to put in odd 
hours, on shares with McBride. 

“ Mac believes in you ; he tells me he would trust 
you with anything, and that is saying a great deal 
for you, because he has a very poor opinion of col- 
ored people generally.” 

Talk like this soon settled the matter and Dilyard 
promised to remain, “ for awhile,” at least. 

That “awhile” had run on up to the present 
time. 

Two fine saddle horses, fully accoutered, one led 
and one driven, and a pair of extra mules, trotted 
along with the rest of the outfit. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

MOULTRIE IN THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR. 

A FEW weeks before Dilyard had thus engaged 
himself permanently to De Kalb, a new mail route 
and stage line had been established, which passed 
Moultrie’s store, going north and south, and a coach 
arrived from each direction on alternate days. This 
line connected Centipede Canyon with the garrison 
from which Dilyard had been expelled, and the 
very first stage that came, after the day on which 
the conversation just mentioned occurred, contained 
the army officer and wife who had shown the in- 
humanity to this friendless colored boy, alleged by 
him. 


148 MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

The gentleman was about five feet, ten inches in 
height, neither stout nor thin, somewhat stoop- 
shouldered, and had a crabbed, half-fierce expres- 
sion, which he evidently assumed, and which he fan- 
cied was one of dignified sternness, befitting him as 
a U. S. A. officer. 

He seemed possessed of an overweening desire to 
impress on people his identity as an army officer and 
a sense of his official importance. 

In fact, he made himself, at times, ridiculous in 
this direction, and it was plain to see he was not 
educated, nor a man of innate refinement or pos- 
sessed of any claims to culture. All that there was 
that was of real gold about him, was his gold re- 
peater. 

His eyes were a cold blue, and numerous “ crow’s 
tracks ’’betrayed a life of dissipation, or hard service 
and incessant worry, for he was manifestly too 
young to have those tell-tale wrinkles righteously 
charged to old age. 

His moustache was red and of thick growth. 

He was not what one would call a bad-looking 
man, and, save his evidently cultivated sour expres- 
sion, which, from the fact that it was cultivated, be- 
trayed a weak point, he might, save for this, 
which made him repulsive, have passed muster as 
being tolerably good looking. That is, good look- 
ing enough to be endured on the score of looks. 

There was in his laugh a rasping, disagreeable 
nasal ring, and he had a habit of bending forward 
and doubling up, when hilarious, that impressed you 
unpleasantly. 

He was predisposed to bullyism, was oblivious of 
the fact, and did not appear like a man cautious 
people would be likely to trust. 

And he possessed, it was charged by his intimate 
comrades even, a remarkable faculty for getting 
control of other people’s property, which he squeezed 
more profit out of than the rightful owners were 
ever able to extract, if fortunate enough, at any 


MOULTRIE IN THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR. 149 

time, to get it safely back into their own hands 
again. 

He was unpopular, both in and out of the army. 

His wife was taller than he was. Her eyes were 
very large and of a pale blue— very pale. And her 
face was freckled, broad and angular, with high 
cheek bones, and decidedly clammy looking, as if 
the colorless skin was sticky. 

It was what some people call a “ platter ” face. 

She was large boned, her hair was red, and she 
wore her dresses too short, as if still a school-girl at 
forty odd years. 

They were in fact just long enough for a school- 
girl of fifteen, but not long enough for a matron of 
unmentionable age. 

Their scanty length did not make her look a day 
younger, and served only to emphasize the area of 
her feet. 

The whole expression of her features betokened a 
hot temper, the possession of which she gave ample 
evidence of before the stage, after stopping awhile 
that day, resumed its eastward trip. 

It came about in this fashion : 

She was standing in Moultrie’s store, leaning 
against the rough counter, little dreaming that Sol- 
omon Dilyard was a trusted employe on the prem- 
ises, when he entered with a basket of eggs and veg- 
etables, a broad grin on his black face at some part- 
ing joke of McBride’s. 

The transition to an expression of astonishment 
and fear when he saw Mrs. Blondin, was ludicrous 
in the extreme, and her surprise and sudden anger 
also appeared more comical than serious. 

The two stood gazing at each other in silence for 
several seconds. 

Sol’s lower jaw quivered perceptibly. 

His eyes seemed popping from their sockets, and 
his stare was riveted on her face, like one in a trance 
of terror. 

She bestowed on him a withering look, as if she 


150 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


would annihilate him with a glance from her faded 
but fiery eyes, and her head was thrown back and 
poised loftily, while her bosom rose and fell with 
profound excitement. 

“ So !” she exclaimed at last, in a tone of concen- 
trated rage. 

“ You are here, are you ? How dare you remain 
in this part of the country ?” 

Then turning to Moultrie, who, just entering the 
nearer door had stopped, with a look like an inter- 
rogation point, as he viewed the singular tableau, 
she said : 

“ Is this colored boy employed here, sir?” 

“ He is, madame,” replied Moultrie, politely lifting 
his hat. 

“ You will do me a favor then if you will discharge 
him,” she imperiously added. 

“ I brought him to this country and have some 
rights in the matter.” 

“ Did he work for you any length of time ?” asked 
Moultrie quietly, closely scanning her. 

“Yes, five months.” 

“ Why not longer.” 

“ Because we discharged him.” 

“ Perhaps he was negligent or dishonest?” 

“ We discharged him for good and sufficient rea- 
sons,” she responded, somewhat haughtily. 

“ And from that hour you ceased to have any 
claim on him, if I correctly understand the case,” 
said Moultrie politely. 

“ He has been efficient and reliable while in my 
employ, and I cannot dispense with his services. 

“ Get a chair from the office for the lady,” he ad- 
ded, turning to Sol, “ and then take that basket to 
Aunty, and tell her to hurry up with dinner. I’m 
famished.” 

Saying which he walked on behind the counter 
and down its length into his office, passing Sol on 
the way, whom he quietly told : 


MOULTRIE IN TUE ROLE OF PROTECTOR. 1 5 1 


Not to b£ afraid, as she could do him no harm, 
and he would see she did not. 

Which assurance lifted a heavy load off the boy’s 
heart and brought a grin of relief to his troubled 
face. 

“ I’se not gwine to be afeared, Massa DeKalb, 
after you say dat,” he answered. 

“Keep out of her sight/’ was Moultrie’s parting 
rejoinder; 

Major Blondin entered the store at this moment, 
on his return from a stroll up the river with another 
passenger eastward bound. 

Although the elaborate advantages that had been 
taken of the natural situation here, had invested 
Moultrie’s store and its surroundings with wide- 
spread notoriety, and although the place was re- 
garded as a sort of beautiful oasis in the wilderness, 
where that unusual luxury in that region, a good 
meal, could always be depended on, these two gentle- 
men were surprised, greatly beyond their expecta- 
tions, at what they discovered, and they regarded 
the place as a perfect little paradise in a desert 
center. 

Under a shelving rock, over which fell a miniature 
cataract, McBride had constructed a receptacle for 
his milk pans, and had fitted up other cool recesses 
where fresh meats, vegetables, and jars of water 
could be kept at a constant very low temperature, 
in the hottest of the dog-days. 

The garden was as complete as any in civilization, 
and destructive insects had signally failed to make 
any serious inroads because of his precautions and 
vigilance. 

The vineyard, too, was a grand success, its tender 
age being considered, and promised to be still 
grander in the course of time. 

The berry bushes and fruit trees were thriving re- 
markably well, and the poultry-yard and duck-pond 
were models of their kind, well worthy of imitation 
in more civilized and better favored localities. 


152 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


The dam below the fishing area had been suc- 
cessfully built, and platforms with awnings had 
been erected at convenient points, enhancing the 
pleasure of piscatorial pastime by the lazy ease 
afforded, as well as the protection from sun and mud 
provided. 

Major Blond in Was engaged in loudly proclaiming 
his lively appreciation of all these points, as he 
entered the store, and caught sight of the expression 
on his wife’s face. 

One of belligerency and defiance immediately 
mounted his own in return, for he had encountered 
that look before. 

It occurred to him that he might perhaps have 
done wrong in viewing these astonishing improve- 
ments without her, but he could not be held repon- 
sible justly, for he had asked her to go with him 
before he started, and she had pleaded fatigue and 
had declined. 

There was nothing else he had done, that he knew 
of, to cause that expression, and she could “ fire 
away as soon as she wanted to,” he said mentally, 
he would “ give her as good as she sent.” 

Like a flash, these thoughts passed through 
his mind, and like a flash they were dissipated, when, 
the next moment, he saw Sol coming toward his 
wife with a chair. 

“ Well, I declare ! Where did you come from !” 
he exclaimed sharply, a cruel gleam in his baleful, 
despotic eye. 

“ You seem to be at home here.” 

“ I belongs heah, sah.” Sol answered, in a scared 
voice. 

“ Oh ! you do, eh !” he answered. “ You’re a 
sweet-scented thing to belong anywhere ! Didn’t I 
order you to go back to St. Louis ?” 

“ He’s as good as those that employ him, I 

reckon !” remarked Mrs. B , quite loudly, as 

though expecting to excite approval from the grin- 


MOULTRIE IN THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR. I $3 

ning spectators, who now thronged the store. There 
was a large wagon train in camp near by. 

“ Of course one cannot expect anything like decent 
breeding from some people !” and she looked dag- 
gers toward Moultrie’s office door. 

Meanwhile Sol had placed the chair for her, and 
had started back hastily toward the office. 

“ Come here, you black scoundrel !” said the 
Major, stepping toward him. 

I can’t deed, an’ deed I can’t, I’se got my work to 
do !” Sol replied, terror-stricken as he disappeared 
on the run. 

“ What an impudent rascal !” exclaimed the 
Major. 

“Oh! they encourage him in it here!” said 
madame emphasizing the word “ here.” 

“ If I had him at the fort I’d put him on bread 
and water for a week !” declared the thoroughly ex- 
asperated husband, hunching his back and drawing 
in his abdomen disagreeably. He always looked 
like a hunch-back when mad. 

His eyes were flashing angrily as he strode after 
Sol, whom he overtook in Moultrie’s office, where he 
was nervously brushing his master’s coat, as an ex- 
cuse to linger near. 

“So, you don’t propose to obey when I order?” 
the Major demanded savagely, seizing him by the 
shoulder roughly. 

“ Please don’t, Massa ! You hurt !” exclaimed the 
affrighted fellow, in accents of pain and terror, for 
the officer’s grip was like a vice. 

“ What is the matter, what does this mean ?” 
questioned Moultrie springing to his feet. He saw, 
at a glance, that the officer had been drinking. 
“ These are my private rooms, sir !” 

“ It means that this black rascal would not come 
to me when I ordered him to !” was the hot, brutal 
reply. 

“ And why should he, if he did not want to ?” 
asked Moultrie. 


*54 


MOULtRIE DE KALB. 


“ Because I called him !” was thundered back. 

“ Well, that is no reason at all, sir, and besides, he 
was busy with my work and perhaps expected vio- 
lence at your hands, possibly. He is my servant, 
sir, and you have no claim on him and no business 
here. 

“ You’ll please release him, sir. I shall protect him. 
And get out of this room and stay out.” 

“ The devil you say !” was the only response with 
a sneer. 

Just then, by a sudden downward jerk, Sol re- 
leased himself and darted for the doorway opening 
into the corral. 

Simultaneously, it was darkened by the splendid 
figure of Senor Ysleta, into whose arms Sol rushed, 
pellmell, before he could help himself. 

The Major, with blazing eyes and clenched fist, 
followed close after, and was on the point of deal- 
ing the boy a blow, when, with a graceful, quick 
sweep of his sinewy arm, the Mexican pushed aside 
his hand, and exclaimed. 

“ Halt, el capitaine ! do not disgrace your noble 
uniform and yourself by striking this helpless boy !” 
and he stepped aside to let Sol pass out. 

Blondin ! Why not co-associate blackguard with 
the name ! Oh! — said more than one, Oh ! if only 
some of the truly brave gentlemen , who are a real 
honor to the uniform, if only some of them had been 
there then, to wipe out this brutal quack and monkey 
caricature of the real, honorable, truly honorable gen- 
tlemen of the United States army? wipe him up, 
for aye, as a self protection of their generally recog- 
nized and honestly merited high respectability. 
Veritably he — Blondin, was one of the black sheep — 
one of the black specks on an otherwise faultlessly 
white mantle. 

Was Blondin a born blockhead or a knave, or 
much of both, and blind to the fact ? 

Could he not in the tiniest bit, see himself as 
others saw him ? No, it would seem not. 


MOULTRIE IN THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR. *5$ 

As a poker player he was a blooming success, and, 
whether at early morn or late at eve, he always rose 
from the table with a “ good round capon of chips' 
to be cashed by the banker, and which, generally, 
younger officers had to pay. 

Think of the disgrace of it ! Only a few months 
earlier this same stalwart Mexican, Ysleta, had dis- 
armed Blondin, and had thrown the pistol he had 
wrenched from his hand, out into the street. 

“ Stand aside, you infernal meddlesome greaser!” 
Blondin yelled. “ This is the second time you have 
thrust your infernal self across my path !” 

Ysleta heeded him not but stood immovably, 
blocking the doorway. 

“ This has gone quite far enough,” said Moultrie, 
trembling with excitement. “ Please leave my prem- 
ises at once, sir !” 

“Certainly,” responded Blondin — “and with pleas- 
ure, for you seem cut out as a fit companion only 
for greasers and niggers !” 

“ If you are the gentleman you pretend, sir, you 
will then hurry yourself, or I will be forced to kick 
you out!” was Moultrie’s hot rejoinder. 

It was a bold, rash, reckless remark, born of tower- 
ing indignation and decidedly unsafe, for the other 
man was at least fifty pounds heavier than Moultrie, 
and already thoroughly infuriated besides. 

The words were scarce uttered before Moultrie 
received a stinging blow on his mouth that sent 
him, reeling, against his desk. But the striker, al- 
most at the same moment, was stretched senseless 
on the floor by a well directed one from Senor Ysleta. 

The Mexican was a heavier and taller man than 
the officer, and took him as unexpectedly as the 
latter had taken young De Kalb. 


5* 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XV. 

MOULTRIE’S MODEL TRAVELING OUTFIT. 

The two extra mules with Moultrie’s party were 
each saddled with a Mexican pack and pair of 
leather panniers. These contained, besides several 
buffalo robes, some rubber over-clothing and a 
number of good, old-fashioned comfortable wraps 
and pillows and blankets, two large tent flies, and an 
outfit of sectional-jointed tent poles, for shelter 
from rain and dew, or shade from the hot rays of 
the sun, when in camp. 

It was about two P. M., and from a warm, even 
sultry, morning, the sky had become heavily over- 
cast with threatening clouds that mustered in 
frowning battalions, too close to the earth to inspire 
the hope that nature was merely showing an empty 
“ bluff,” for when they ride so low over those broad 
treeless plains, they are generally full-pent with a 
deluge soon to empty itself. 

So heavily water-freighted are these storm-clouds, 
usually, at that season, that rivers and creeks re- 
ceiving the rainfall that pours down on the water- 
sheds they drain, will, in a few hours, fill to over- 
flowing, and in some cases, from dry beds become 
roaring, rushing torrents, impassable for days. 

Such a stream crossed the trail Moultrie was fol- 
lowing, just fifteen miles ahead, and the importance 
of placing it behind them before night set in was 
fully appreciated by the travelers. 

From its opposite bank the ground rose gradually, 
almost imperceptibly, (with now and then a long 
undulation) for thirty-five miles, to where the alti- 
tude reached an elevation of nearly two thousand 
feet above its bed. Every inch of the way was 
prairie, excepting a narrow fringe of cottonwood 
trees that skirted the edge of the stream ahead. 


Moultrie’s traveling outfit. 157 

Passing over this ,long, high divide, they would 
enter on a still longer rolling slope, whose rocky 
fissures and deep ravines, scantily wooded, were, in 
wet seasons, the beds for madly rushing little tor- 
tents, tributary to the broad, shallow river that 
meandered through the lowlands some forty miles 
still further on. 

The road over this route was unexceptionally 
good, save in the bottomdand, close along the border 
of the distant stream. 

Here on a long, low sand ridge, in a cottonwood 
grove, an old trapper had built a ranch, and gathered 
about him a mongrel following, principally Mexicans, 
semi-civilized Indians, and negroes. 

Of the fifteen or twenty at this time in his “ out- 
fit,” there was only one white man beside himself, 
and he, with an ugly cicatrice, from a bowie-knife 
slash that had severed his cheek its entire length, 
had a repulsive appearance that was not improved 
by chronic sore eyes and a badly pock-marked 
visage. 

“ The old trapper,” as Morrison the head of this 
gang styled himself, was not exclusively in that line 
of business. 

Besides his traffic in pelts, his horses, mules and 
cattle dotted the river bottom over an extensive 
range for fifty miles up and down the stream. 

He was about six feet in height, had blue eyes, 
long, light colored hair and beard, and remarkably 
small feet. 

His countenance was amiable looking and, except 
when on a debauch and maddened with liquor, he 
was as genial as could be desired. 

He had left his wife in Missouri, after one of a 
series of bitter disagreements ; and at this ranch had 
as housekeeper a large, fine looking woman, who had 
emigrated from a more thickly settled section for the 
benefit of that section and to escape the clutches of 
the law. 

In fact she was now living under an assumed 


Moultrie Le kalR. 


l 5 8 

name, and, because of complicity in certain criminal 
transactions in her past career in civilization, it be- 
hooved her to keep her identity and place of sojourn 
concealed. 

Of the Mexican, Indian and negro employes very 
iittle of interest can be said. One by one, some of 
them had dropped off from overland trains and cat- 
tle herds, and some had wandered down there from 
Missouri or Arkansas, as many other persons wan- 
der from their homes in search of adventures and 
fortunes* 

One colored man was a runaway Indian sla 
from the Choctaw Nation in the Indian Territory. 

He was a very Goliah in stature and strength, and 
was known as “Toyoh Sam.” 

“ We must cross the creek soon if we expect to 
cross it at all inside of ten days,” said Moultrie to 
Ysleta. 

“ Si, Senor.” 

Responded the Mexican. 

“ This rain is not of one day but many I think.” 

And he gave the lead team a cut with his whip 
which started them ahead on the jump. 

“ Let them go !” exclaimed Moultrie to the driver, 
who was about reining in to bring them down to a 
trot. 

“ It is pouring down like the very furies ahead, 
and two hours of such a storm will set the creek 
booming.” 

“ There, keep them steady at that,” he added, as 
the animals came down of their own accord to a 
brisk, striding trot. 

The little party had made about five miles of the 
distance when the rain burst in a torrent over them. 

Not, however, before they had fished out from 
under the seats their rubber leggins and water 
proof overcoats and put them on. 

The carriage curtains, too, had been securely 
buckled down, and as a result no inconvenience was 
experienced by the occupants from the terrific 


MOULTRIE’S TRAVELING OUTFIT. 1 59 

storm, save the semi-darkness that overspread the 
sky, and the blinding effect of the rain that came in 
such great, thick sheets as to shut out everything 
from view over a hundred yards away. 

On they plunged, nevertheless, and reaching the 
creek the carriage followed the horseman across the 
ford, just in the nick of time. 

Had they been thirty minutes later, the swelling 
stream would have been too deep, and their ani- 
mals, when midway, would have been lifted from 
their feet and swept down the swift current to de- 
duction. 

“ Let us camp on high ground, Senor,” said Ysleta 
to De Kalb, and he began gathering pieces of wood 
for fuel, from the dead branches lying near. 

“ Up above, half a mile off the road, is a good 
place, a hundred feet higher than this, and near the 
water ; you can see it, there,” he continued, pointing 
it out. 

“ Very well, drive on ! We must have good 
grass, too, for the stock,” said Moultrie, nodding to 
Ysleta and smiling. And then, speaking to his 
driver, they turned off the road and went to where 
the Mexican had indicated. 

This was on a ridge, cleft by the channel of the 
creek, whose banks, at this point, were almost per- 
pendicular, as though a slice had been cut out of 
the solid rock to afford a passage for the stream. 
Here grazing was excellent on the hill-side, an 
abundance of wood was obtained from a clump of 
stunted trees, and Dilyard, notwithstanding the rain, 
soon had a fine fire blazing, protected by a large oil- 
cloth talma stretched overhead like a tent fly. 

It was several feet down to the water from the 
edge of the bank, and the faithful descendant of 
Ham obtained a supply of that necessary article by 
fastening his camp kettle to a lariat rope, and lower- 
ing it into the rapidly rising stream. 

Meanwhile the other men with the expedition had 
unlashed the poles from the side bars of fhq carriage. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


160 

and opened out the tent flies, which were speedily 
erected into a cosy shelter, by means of simple rig- 
ging that had been devised by Moultrie. 

One was put up close on one side of the carriage, 
to serve as a dining canopy. The other, fastened 
at one end, fore and aft to the carriage wheels, was 
stretched over its top and carried outward on the 
opposite side, where, at the other end, it was passed 
over a ridge pole six feet high and about eight feet 
from the vehicle and fastened, at intervals, by guy 
ropes, to several stout tent pins. This arrangement 
afforded effectual shelter from the rain for the car- 
riage itself, as well as for the men under the ten by 
twelve feet of awning thus furnished. 

A sheet iron camp-stove soon dissipated the pre- 
vailing damp, as far as that was possible under the 
circumstances, and in less than an hour, Dilyard, 
spry as a cat, having unfastened from the trunk-rack 
the pieces, and put together the camp table, invited 
them to a bivouac dinner of steaming hot bread, 
baked potatoes, fried ham, stewed tomatoes, olives, 
chowchow, marmalade and good Java coffee. Moul- 
trie said it was “ a damp, good feast, fit for the 
Gods !” 

They had keen appetites, these travelers, to enjoy 
the inviting spread, and many words of commenda- 
tion for the cook. 

It was black night before they rose from the table, 
and the darkness was intense, but the wind, having 
died out entirely, candles could be lighted and did 
good service as auxiliaries to the two lanterns in 
their kit. And with their help, Moultrie and Fatty 
made their bed of rubber ponchos, Mackinaw 
blankets, and buffalo robes on the grass, under the 
awning with their feet toward the stove. 

Gomez Ysleta spread his “ couch ” under the car- 
riage, while Dilyard and the driver went “ snooks ” 
in utilizing the dining-room for the same purpose. 

The rain continued to pour, pour, pour, in a cease- 
less blinding torrent, until long after midnight. But 


A SNUG CAMP AND STORMY NIGHT. l6l 

the next morning the sky was clear the sun shone 
forth with his usual uncurtained splendor and warmth, 
and all nature looked refreshed and joyous. 

Innumerable birds filled the air and sang their 
carols, and the thin border of trees along the swol- 
len stream seemed peopled by them. The faint 
odor from the wet untrod grass, the unobstructed 
view in every direction, and the protection from ob- 
servation afforded by the joyous little nook, the 
verdure clad dell in which they were hidden, were 
all themes for prayerful thanks. So at least wrote 
Moultrie to Bertha. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A SNUG CAMP AND STORMY NIGHT. 

The little party were in no hurry to proceed, for 
they well knew it would be impossible, if the deluge 
had been as great in that vicinity as it had been 
with them, to get beyond Morrison’s ranch until the 
swollen river had receded. And it would also be 
far more pleasant to remain, at least one more night, 
where they were, because it would rest the animals 
on most desirable hillside grazing, where the grass 
was exceptionally succulent and abundant, and them- 
selves on a fresh and romantic camping ground 
where no one had recently camped before, and where 
none of the objections of the ranch surroundings, 
none of the offal and filth, would offend. 

Ysleta coincided heartily with Moultrie and For- 
bush, when the idea was suggested for his opinion. 

“ Our animals will rest much better here,” 

He said. 

“ The grass is untrod and the air is pure. Besides^ 


i 62 


MOULTRIE KE KALB. 


we can rely on the water, which is of doubtful clean- 
liness at the other place. I should say camp here 
until we feel certain we can cross the river, and then 
go first a little over the divide, so that next day we 
can push on several miles beyond the ranch before 
we camp again, the further the better.” 

The Mexican was suspicious of Morrison’s people, 
but had never before intimated the fact quite so di- 
rectly. His remark, however, had excited Moultrie’s 
curiosity, and that young man called for an explana- 
tion. 

“ I know nothing personally of the gang,” 

Ysleta answered. 

“ But I have heard much that would induce me to 
shy clear of them always. I am glad even that the 
rain has wiped out our trail from the crossing to 
this point, for I intended, if you had given the order 
to harness, to advise that it be, not for the purpose 
of going on, but rather to move two or three miles 
farther up the creek, to a more secluded camp. 

“ I believe those fellows are cut-throats. And if 
they suspected our presence here, or dreamed there 
was anything like the sum of money you carry in 
the party, either disguised as Indians or in some 
other way, they would be down on us. 

“ If we wait, however, in an out-of-the-way place, 
until we are sure we can cross the river, the second 
day on the road we can easily reach the soldiers in 
camp, a few miles beyond Morrison’s.” 

“ I think your idea excellent, superb!” Moultrie 
said. 

“ And while the others are hitching up to move to 
the new, safer camp, suppose we ride forward and 
look for such a spot as you suggest.” 

And they rode forward, passing several places 
more or less desirable, until they finally arrived at 
one so beautiful and so perfectly fitted to their pur- 
pose, that both broke forth, simultaneously, in ex- 
clamations of surprise and pleasure. 


A SNUG CAMP AND STORMY NIGHT. 163 

The more they examined it the better they were 
satisfied. 

It was a huge, oblong pocket, quite high up in the 
lovely range of hills, close to the creek, that was 
reached by a short, winding, rocky path, which 
abruptly terminated at the butt of a huge tree. Its 
broad-spreading and overhanging branches leaned 
far out over the stream that rushed, madly on, some 
twenty feet below. 

These branches formed a perfect screen, shutting 
off completely and effectually hiding from sight this 
charming spot, especially from the opposite bank. 
That bank was low, completely flooded and covered 
with a dense thicket of undergrowth — a chaparral. 

From nowhere save overhead could anything 
be seen inside this tiny glen. And from nowhere 
outside could it be entered, except at the particular 
point where Moultrie and Senor Ysleta had pene- 
trated, unless you had wings and could descend 
into it from skyward like a bird. 

Above, on the side upstream and two-thirds around, 
as though chopped away by the hand of man, great 
masses had been cut perpendicularly from the high 
ground encircling it, leaving a natural wall, like a 
vertical scarp on the outer face of the hills, as tow- 
ering and inaccessible as the battlements of a me- 
dieval castle. 

Inside the pocket was a level area, about half an 
acre in extent, reaching out and up everywhere (save 
at the narrow entrance) to the hillsides, that sloped 
gently until they suddenly terminated at this per- 
pendicular face. 

Scrubby little trees grew here and there, near and 
at the top of these slopes, and at one point from 
which a person could overlook the country for miles 
around, there was a comparatively large one with 
several of smaller growth so grouped as to form a 
complete shelter or screen, shielding the watcher 
there thoroughly from outside observation. 

Any amount of well seasoned wood lay around in 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


164 

small and large branches easily gathered, and as I 
have intimated before, water could be had in abun- 
dance conveniently, and without any possibility of 
exposure to detection by any prowler in the neigh- 
borhood, unless he actually penetrated through the 
hills and within the cosy retreat, and then walked 
down the devious path to the old tree overhanging 
the stream. 

“ We will post a sentinel there,” said Moultrie, 
pointing to the clump. 

“ Since you have such a poor opinion of Morrison 
and his men we must do so. And we’ll keep up a 
constant watch, each of us taking his turn. 

“ We will do this also as a precaution against Indians, 
or other undesirable visitors, although I hav’n’t the 
least apprehension of any one coming, especially any 
scalp-hunting interlopers. 

“ We are too far away from their base, and there 
are too many troops in this part of the country. 

“ We may look for that sort of danger further on.” 

Ysleta merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled. 

The carriage wound its way up the creek, making 
a wide detour to avoid the small ravines and broken 
irregular ground along the bank. 

Ysleta put spurs to his horse, galloped to the high 
ground, and after a hasty survey, waved his hat to 
the driver as a signal to approach, and then hastened 
toward him, in order to pilot the team by the best 
route to the spot. 

This was easily accomplished in due time, and a 
subsequent scanning of the surrounding country 
from the aerial outlook, through his powerful field 
glass, plainly disclosed to Moultrie the trail to Mor^ 
rison’s ranch, traversing the prairie like a slender 
tendril reaching out through a sea of grass, for some 
far distant and invisible something beyond. 

This road or trail, as it was called in those parts, 
was not perceptible to the naked eye from where 
Moultrie stood, although any team, man or animal, 
passing over it, could have been clearly seen. And 


A SNUG CAMP AND STORMY NIGHT. 165 


Ysleta could have told whether he was bandit, Indian, 
tourist, soldier, cowboy, tramp, or scientific prowler. 

“We will watch that, and protect legitimate ex- 
plorists,” said Moultrie to Gomez, pointing out the 
“ Morrison trail.” 

“ And you must make a circuit, and meet any one 
who may happen to be coming from the direction of 
the river, and inquire as to its stage. 

“ Anyone that you observe on the trail after to- 
day, I mean. Especially protect those scientific fel- 
lows, and invite them here. 

“ The rise of the water may not have been so very 
considerable there, after all, for now that I think of 
it, the storm seemed to originate on this side, and 
near here, and traveled away from instead of toward 
the river,” continued Moultrie. 

“ I hope so,” said Ysleta. 

The little party remained in their delightful, new 
camp all that day and until three o’clock on the 
afternoon of the next, when they learned through 
Ysleta, from passing cattle herders, that the river 
had been impassable for only five hours, was fordable 
now, and was falling rapidly. 

The team was therefore quickly harnessed, and the 
journey resumed, the extra animals being properly 
accoutred by Ysleta. 

About eight in the evening, after having gone 
several miles, the carriage pulled off to the right of 
the road, and came to another standstill close to a 
clump of bushes near the head of a romantic-look- 
ing ravine, where enough water was found in a small 
pool from which to make coffee. 

While at supper the sky again became suddenly 
overcast with angry clouds, and the wind rose con- 
siderably, whereupon Senor Ysleta advised that 
they “ hook-up ” and go on at once, driving leisurely, 
so as to reach the river by daylight, and cross before 
the coming storm could make the ford there impass- 
able. 

After a little discussion, it was finally decided to 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 66 

let the animals graze on the fine mesquit, or 
“ buffalo ” grass, they were at the time enjoying so 
much, until about eleven o’clock P. M., at which time 
it was determined the journey would be resumed. 
But they were not destined to wait so long, for, 
before ten o’clock the rain was coming down in 
another blinding torrent, accompanied by a fierce 
gale, and it was deemed best to push on immedi- 
ately, rather than continue on that high ground, 
exposed to the worst violence of the tempest with- 
out any compensating results. They were, there- 
fore, soon under way again, and in for an unusually 
stormy and uncomfortable all-night ride. 

Day was just breaking as they drew up in front of 
Morrison’s main doorway, which was opened by that 
man’s housekeeper, the only person about the 
premises stirring. 

In fact, she was the only soul at the ranch, except 
“ Toyo Sam,” and a little, wiry-looking Mexican, 
about five feet tall, sick abed with the ague. 

Toyo Sam’s greeting of Ysleta was very cordial in- 
deed. The latter seemed to regard it as effusive, 
and made several ineffectual efforts to escape. 

“ That colored Goliah seems very fond of you for 
some reason,” remarked Moultrie, noticing it and 
smiling. 

“ Yes, I pulled him through when several others 
were dying of cholera once, and finally had to kill 
another man who wanted to kill him for some old 
grudge and his gold-dust hid in his waist-belt and 
seams of his Yankee store-clothes, and when he was too 
weak to defend himself, poor devil. It was four years 
ago, in a cattle camp down on the Rio Grande in 
Texas. I have seen him but once since, and that 
was when I came this way for you, a year ago, look- 
ing up this d — d military shop business, you have 
finally decided to undertake. 

“ I am glad he is here, however, for in case of any 
devilment, I believe I could depend on him. I am 
also glad all the remainder of the gang are away.” 


at* last With troops. 


16*/ 

The river was quite low, considering the recent 
heavy rainfall, and lacked considerable of being too 
high to ford, but it was rising nearly half a foot an 
hour, and Moultrie therefore delayed only long 
enough to purchase some needed grain for the 
animals, after which he pushed forward and crossed 
in safety, taking Toyo Sam along, several miles, as a 
sort of voluntary escort or A. D. C. — from whom he 
learned that Morrison, with all hands, was out on 
what is called a “ rounding up ” of his cattle, and 
would not return in less than three or four days. 

This was agreeable news, for Moultrie was widely 
known, and naturally would be suspected of having 
the considerable sum of money which he did have 
with him on this trip. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

AT last with troops. 

Continuing their drive, his party late that after- 
noon reached a cavalry camp of four “ troops,” 
pitched picturesquely between two forks of a well 
wooded and deep, rapidly running, but narrow 
stream with declivitous banks. 

Here they found, under a large tent, a branch store 
of one of the firms Moultrie had become a partner 
in. And here they rested two days, during which 
time the animals were re-shod and grazed, and all 
needed supplies for the further journey ahead laid 
in. 

Their destination was one hundred and twenty 
miles ahead, and the road thereto traversed a wild, 
rugged and dangerous country, without a single set- 
tlement, ranch or even cowboy camp on the way. 
F or t s , at its end, was located in the midst of a 


i 68 


MOULTRIE DE KALB, 


small, fertile, verdure-clad oasis, a veritable centre- 
piece of green grass and foliage in a sea of sand. 
The nine officers at the camp were genial, dashing 
fellows, Moultrie thought, all seemingly imbued with 
professional esprit, and each and all accorded him a 
hearty welcome. The commandant was particularly 
affable for one reputed austere and a strict discipli- 
narian. There was a peculiar light in his clear, blue- 
gray eyes, and a quietness and self-confidence and 
simplicity in his bearing that won Moultrie at once. 
Years later on it was averred that, had he lived, he 
would have compassed several valuable inventions — 
improvements in war implements — that would have 
revolutionized existing methods of attack and de- 
fence. His uncompleted experiments and models, 
found after his death, pointed out this conviction. 
Moultrie had been heralded as fabulously wealthy, 
and a most desirable accession to the coterie at the 
garrison he was en route for. 

He was accredited as indomitable, handsome, re- 
markably enterprising, and lavish in his liberality. 
Anyone he liked had but to admire anything he 
could give and it was forthwith given. So rumor 
said. 

His post-trader partner at the distant Fort S , 

was anxiously awaiting him. A largely increased 
number of troops, depleted stock, and funds at low- 
water mark, accentuated the desire for his speedy 
arrival. 

The post-trader’s younger brother was manager of 
the branch store at the camp. He was plausibly 
altiloquent and gave circulation and emphasis to the 
flattering reputation of Moultrie that had preceded 
him. And being totally ignorant of this impression 
regarding himself, Moultrie, of course, thought his 
reception at camp as almost too effusive. But, on 
second thought, he attributed it to the inherent cor- 
diality of his hosts, who, he argued, were overjoyed 
to see another white man among them. 

He certainly did regard those officers he met then, 


AT LAST WITH TROOPS. 


169 

as the best fellows he had ever up to that time had 
the good fortune to fall in with. Their blunt, warm- 
hearted courtesies, and off hand manner won him 
completely. 

He was at once made to feel himslf perfectly at 
home, and was invited to meet the commandant and 
others at dinner that evening, at the officers’ mess- 
tent, and before the hour appointed had arrived was 
called on by all of them, among whom were two re- 
garded as eccentric. 

One, Lieutenant Beaustrum, was of middle-height, 
and, to use a nautical expression, of “ great breadth 
of beam.” 

He wore short curls and very showy buckskin leg- 
gings. Had a clear, fair complexion, a broad Anglo- 
Saxon face, was partial to tight boots, used lavishly 
the rich but oppressive heliotrope perfume, and was 
a monomaniac on attitudinizing and using tremen- 
dously big words. 

It was “ a circus with all the side-shows thrown in,” 
said one gentleman to a group of others, 

“To see him strike a position at the ‘ beat off ’ 
of the band, when, as adjutant, he mounted the 
guard.” 

He had been, it was charged, more than once dis- 
covered posing in full uniform in front of his mirror, 
studying attitudes just before dress-parade. 

His “ valet ” (as he called him) was a private soldier 
known in army nomenclature, among common sol- 
diers, as “ dog-robber.” Because such as he wait 
on officers, and sit at the second table, eating (it is 
maliciously explained) what would otherwise be 
thrown to the dogs. 

A “dog-robber,” or “ striker,” as the officers term 
him, is usually paid about five dollars a month out 
of his private purse by the officer whose drudgery 
he does, in lieu of the military duty he has, as a 
further consideration, been excused from perform- 
ing. 

Some of them were very valuable servants, com- 


MOULTRIE D£ KALB. 


170 

petent to do anything well, from making boots and 
uniforms look immaculate to cooking a good meal. 

Beaustrum’s first name was Charley. Not Charles 
he insisted, but Charley, and he pronounced it as if 
spelled “ Chorley .” 

He had a heavy bass voice, thought he could sing 
charmingly, and had frequently, on occasion, roared 
most lustily at least, much to the discomfort of nerv- 
ous persons in his immediate neighborhood. 

He was always spruce and exceptionally neat, took 
excellent care of his teeth, put cosmetic on his 
moustache oftener than he said his prayers, con- 
stantly waxing the ends to a needle-like point, and 
never drank intoxicants. 

All the officer’s wives who had husbands addicted 
to this vice held him up as a model among men. 

He was an acknowledged, decided success at 
cards, and uniformly held his own with any compet- 
itors at either “ poker ” or “ blue Peter,” the two 
games most played among army people on the Indian 
frontier. He was also a superb horseman. 

Incur his displeasure and he could utterly squelch 
you under an avalanche of big words, quicker than 
you could say “ Jack Robinson.” And he was al- 
ways strictly asyndeton in style, never using con- 
junctions in his speech when he could avoid them. 

This, and the largeness of his words, in fact, were 
his stronghold, and the sledge-hammer way, yet ease, 
with which he swung and slung most ponderous dic- 
tionary quotations, in a relative sense, heavily dis- 
counted anything Vulcan and his whole corps of 
Cyclops ever undertook, or even dreamed of in their 
line. 

One stormy morning in garrison, muffled in a 
mighty overcoat, he was, while returning from re- 
veille roll-call, overtaken by a fresh young accession 
to the subalterns of his regiment in the person of a 
new fledged graduate, who accosted him cheerily, 
saying : 

“ Well, Charley, this beats the old Nick, don’t it ? 


At LAST WITH TROOPS. \J\ 

Turning us out on a morning like this; why didn’t 
they “ sound off ” without the “ assembly ?” 

“ Chorley ” swelled and towered like a Brobdig- 
nagian, so thought the youngster, and with a rush of 
blood to his face, and a look of lightning in his eyes, 
while his upraised, clenched fist seemed, Jove-like, to 
be holding a handful of thunderbolts, in mighty 
tones that struck his comrade dumb with amaze- 
ment he roared : 

“ My prenomen, sir, is Chorley ! 

“ I am no benighted Flat-head to be cognomened 
so flatly !” 

“ Give us some little culture in pronounciation, 
for decency’s sake ! 

“ You are just fresh from your books and should 
know how ! 

“ C-h-a-r-l-e-y ! Bah !” 

Never was any innocent little child, in red drapery, 
more startled by a bellowing and frantic bull, than 
was this unintentionally offending “ Sub.” 

Completely squelched and dejected, he hurried to 
his room, took a drink out of sheer chagrin, and 
turned in until breakfast-time for a little more of 
that sweet restorer of tired nature, sleep. 

The other of the two gentleman who, in Moultrie’s 
opinion, stood out, figuratively speaking, in bas-relief 
from the group around that festive banquet table, — 
for the dinner that evening w r as more like a banquet 
than anything else — was the very antipodes of 
“ Chorley.” 

He was scant six feet in height and the kind of a 
man Great Caesar would not have liked, for, like 
Cassius, he was lean. 

There was neither breadth of hips, depth of chest, 
nor width of shoulders to redeem this dashing young 
captain in personal appearance from the cause for 
adverse suspicion, given by that distinguished Roman 
Emperor in regard to the wily and treacherous lieu- 
tenant he so justly suspected. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 72 

Captain Gaunt also possessed some such a temper 
as Shakspeare credits Cassius with. 

He believed only in armigerous people, was de- 
votedly wedded to that belief, was very proud indeed 
of his profession, and at the same time despised 
what he termed “ shop-keepers/' by whicn he meant, 
all mercantile and commercial people. 

He took most kindly to wine, fast horses and 
cards, was physically brave, recklessly so to a fault, 
but had a dried up, bleary-eyed and dissipated face, 
not pleasant to contemplate in one apparently so 
young. 

The wrinkles and puffs around his eyes told their 
own sad story. 

He was kind enough and sufficiently careful and 
attentive when sober, but exacting and cruel to 
those under his command when he was on a debauch. 

“To be now a sensible man, and by and by a fool ! 
Then presently a beast ! O ! every inordinate cup 
is unblest and the ingredient is a — devil !” 

When he won at gaming, his company was fed on 
the fat of the land, when he lost, they complained of 
hard fare, or in other words, lived on regulation 
rations. 

Writing or talking, he twirled one side of his 
blond moustache, which was thin and straggling, as 
if not rooted in arable soil. 

When he was excited this twirling was done vig- 
orously, and when quietly contemplative, slowly. 

As a result that end twirled turned up and the end 
not twirled turned down, habitually. 

Ten years of barber’s art had been fruitlessly ap- 
plied in endeavors to coax that moustache into a 
grown-up development. But it would not yield, 
any more than high living, abundance of fresh air 
and years of comparative idleness, would give the 
captain increased breadth of shoulders or put more 
meat upon his ribs ; or any more than habitual 
gambling and small necessary expenses would put 
money in his purse. 


AT LAST WITH TROOPS. 


m 


To ride into stores on horseback, when in a con- 
vivial condition, was a favorite pastime with him, and 
was rather encouraged by some few small dealers, 
because the gallant cavalier never disputed their 
subsequent bills for damages. 

At other times he would dress his colored servant 
in his own full regimentals, epaulettes, feathers and 
all, and have him, thus costumed, officiate as head- 
waiter at bacchanalian dinners, card parties, and 
orgies. 

Many and various other things he would do, sug- 
gested by his surroundings at the time, which would 
come under the status of “ disorderly conduct/’ before 
the police courts of cities, and yet his career was 
not curtailed, nor was anything like serious excep- 
tion taken to his exploits by those in authority. 

During his wildest sprees he never did anything 
dishonorable. 

His record, on the score of moneys and public 
property in his charge, was stainless and flawless. 

And whenever he dropped in on his fellow officers, 
engaged in having a good time, they would sing, 

Oh ! he’s a jolly good fellow!” etc. 

His company, in drill and discipline, was fully up 
to the standard, and his superior ability as an officer 
of his grade, and eligible for promotion to a higher, 
was unquestioned. 

Furthermore, he was genial, companionable, and, 
from the standpoint of military gentlemen, “ the soul 
of honor.” 

He was as devoted to his Scotch *' dog-robber ” as 
ever was officer to enlisted man. And, in the lan- 
guage of the latter, both considered “ kickshaws ” as 
“ execrable.” 

The Scotchman was a tall, broad-shouldered, 
powerful soldier, who could tell, without end, the 
funniest of anecdotes, and tell them well. 


MOULTRIE DE KAL& 


And when the captain got what the faithful fel- 
low called “ harmfully drunk,” he, with joke and jolly 
story, would concoct some sort of mixed drink that 
transformed him to the “harmlessly list,” as he 
styled it, i. e., too far gone. And then most de- 
votedly and incessantly he would nurse him until he 
returned to his normal condition when sober. 

“ If he tries any tantrums with me, I will promptly 
‘ subjugate ’ him,” he would say. And he did 
completely quiesce him. 

He was the only person, officer or enlisted man, 
in the whole command, who could keep the captain 
in subjection when he had tippled to excess. And 
the only enlisted man Gaunt had ever met that he 
could not browbeat nor misuse. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

FATTY FORBUSH SAVAGE ON ARMY OFFICERS. 

Moultrie’s bed that night was made down on 
some packing cases in the store tent, and a soap-box, 
stood on end, served as a washstand, on which were 
a papier mache wash-bowl, a bucket filled with 
water, a quart tin cup, towels, soap, and a bottle of 
bay-rum. 

The bed consisted of several buffalo robes and 
California-wool blankets spread out upon a piece of 
thick canvas, 

“ I think I will enjoy sleep hugely, to-night, and 
this looks very inviting.” 

He said, with a yawn, as he scanned the simple, 
but cosy arrangements. 

“ After one o’clock !” 

Remarked Fatty, looking at his watch. 


FATTY FORBUSH SAVAGE ON ARMY OFFICERS. 1 75 

“ How did you enjoy your first glimpse at army 
life on the frontier ?” 

“ Oh, very well, on the whole ; but I’m afraid it 
was somewhat disappointing in some respects." 

Was the slowly-spoken answer. 

“ At least, it was not at all of the description I 
had fancied. These men are right jolly fellows. 
Ain’t they, though ? 

“ Separated from all restraining influences, and in 
this out-of-the-way locality, on a perilous kind of 
business, they must break the miserable mono- 
ton)" somehow. I haven’t had a chance yet, per- 
haps, to see them only at their worst. Surely 
no opportunity to see them at their best.” Moul- 
trie had witnessed the first game of poker of his 
life. 

“Yes, you have!” said Fatty, who had been re- 
peatedly snubbed. 

“ They are the same everywhere, and these are 
good samples of our army officers, as I have seen 
them a hundred times. 

“ In garrison, in the presence of their ladies, some 
of them restrain themselves a little, and I believe 
there are instances where some drink freely in camp, 
who don’t touch it at all when in garrison. 

“ My visits to different forts have been like going 
to different theatres in different cities. 

“ The actors, the stage mechanism, the scenery 
and other surroundings, have each time been pretty 
much the same in all the places. 

“ Although I know of a number of exceptions, 
still, as a rule, I have found army officers to be just 
what you saw them to-night. Either I have regu- 
larly, everywhere I have been, fallen in with an ex- 
ceptionally bad lot, on exceptionally bad occasions, 
and in exceptionally bad places, or else my impres- 
sion is correct. 

“Furthermore, it is almost impossible to have 
yourself righted if you happen to be the victim of 
any fraud or outrage at the hands of one of them. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 76 

They will band together for each other or elude jus- 
tice, if you get the law on them, in a way and with a 
success that must astound old Satan himself, lliere 
have been plenty of instances in which some of them 
have combined against one of their own number, 
and yanked him up at short notice, and in such 
cases some startling things are likely to come out, 
especially if he fights back very hard, gets a ghost 
of a show. I tell you what ! in such a case it’s 
worse than a lot of wolves rending a wounded 
brother of the pack, the ravenous way they do go for 
him. 

“ And they often do it with a show of virtuous in- 
dignation, too, especially those who are blacker 
sheep than the accused. But the real truth is they 
are generally after a vacancy and promotion, which 
one or more juniors in rank to the intended victim 
are hungering for. 

“ If you don’t want to listen, don’t, my dear boy, 
but, truthfully, I have actually met some — designing 
curs of course — who have actually been so despic- 
able as to inveigle confiding comrades, to whom 
they were in debt for money squandered in gam- 
bling, into disgraceful sprees. And when every- 
thing was fixed, ripe for the success of their beastly, 
dirty scheme, they have had the soft-hearted fools 
take the tour of duty of some other ambitious con- 
federate, and, at the right time in which to convince 
enlisted men and all other onlookers, he has been 
apprehended and charged as ‘ drunk on duty /’ ” 

“ Outrageous ! But it really doesn’t interest me 
the least. Fully as mean and bad things are done 
every day and every hour in other professions and 
walks of life,” said Moultrie. “ I hope you don’t 
overdraw, old boy.” 

“ No, sir! I do not overdraw ! If the regular army 
were a joint-stock concern,” replied Fatty, persist- 
ently, brushing up his forelock till each hair stood 
erect, like a drum-major, “ the controlling interest 
would be owned by less than three hundred families, 


FATTY FORBUSH SAVAGE ON ARMY OFFICERS. 1 77 


Talk about your syndicates and your trusts : why 
they are producers, anyhow, and not absorbers of 
production with no output to justify their existence. 
How’s that for high ?” 

“ You have evidently been a student of the sub- 
ject, a close observer,” said Moultrie, sleepily. “ But 
come on : undress and let’s turn in.” 

“ In my newspaper work it behooved one to be a 
close observer,” persisted Fatty, swelling with self- 
importance. “ And,” with arms akimbo, “ I es- 
pecially inquired into and sifted this particular 
matter, closely and exhaustively.” 

“ Well, all right, I guess you did. Good-night, old 
fellow. The major has promised us a strong cavalry 
escort when we start out for the fort. Turn in.” 

And soon afterward both were wandering through 
dreamland : totally oblivious of and indifferent as to 
how the army was run, and not in the least concerned 
about imaginary or real stock-holders who owned it 
or anything else ; as well as of those unfortunate 
fellows, who did not belong to the charmed circle 
who owned stock, and who had been or were destined 
to be “ frozen out” by those who did. Four days of 
tedious and uneventful travel finally brought our 
little party to its destination, Fort S . 

It was just three o’clock in the afternoon when, 
dust-begrimmed and weary, they rounded the top of 
a long, rolling hill and came in sight of its numerous, 
white buildings, scattered over the long stretch of 
prairie spread out before them in the distance. 

The steeply sloping, octagonal tin roof of the 
magazine shone, a dazzling blaze, like silvery sheen, 
in the rays of the unobscured sun. 

It looked like a huge, royal gem crowning a sea 
of verdure. It was apart, some distance from the 
main buildings of the fort. 

Off, to the right, was a long, low building, with 
several smaller ones grouped around it, in straight 
lines, and surrounded by a massive staunch looking 
stockade that was pierced by port-holes at regular 


i/8 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


intervals, and supplied with open towers, or outlook 
platforms, at each corner, This group especially in- 
terested Moultrie, for it was the post-trader’s estab- 
lishment — his future headquarters. 

A crowd of motley looking Mexicans, with burros 
packed with cord-wood, were congregated in front 
of the main building. And an empty army supply 
train, from a more distant garrison, was moving into 
park, off to the left and rear. Nearest to it were 
the rambling looking warehouses for the quarter- 
master and commissariat, and back of them was a 
line of cavalry stables and a long, narrow quarter- 
master’s corral. 

Further on was a row of soldiers’ barracks, with a 
hospital at one end, removed a few yards only from 
a joint guard and prison house. 

In front of these was a plaza, or parade ground, 
neatly kept, and over which squads and companies 
of troops could be seen, marching and countermarch- 
ing in drill. 

In that clump of willows in the back ground, to 
the right, is a large spring. 

The water is as clear as crystal and so cold that 
fish cannot live in it. 

The slender, serpentine, silvery thread that is 
lost to sight behind the bluff, on the left, is Willow 
Creek, that takes its rise from this spring. 

Its bank, toward the garrison, is a pretty, gently 
sloping scarp, while the opposite bank is a steep and 
abrupt counter-scarp. 

Directly opposite the soldiers’ barracks, and align- 
ing the other side of the parade ground were the 
cottages for officers, with broad verandahs screened 
with vines here and there, and pretty yards. 

Between the two warehouses, about midway, stood 
a plain little “ hacked ” occupied as headquarters. 

All these buildings were but one story high and 
the walls were of mud, or Mexican “ adobe.” All 
except headquarters, which was built of perpendicu- 
lar logs. 


FATTY FORBUSH SAVAGE ON ARMY OFFICERS. 1 79 

The yards around the officers’ cottages were not 
enclosed by fences, but by low earth walls in front, 
and high ones in the rear. 

Numerous small out-buildings dotted the whole 
area, and near the stables were various shops for 
the garrison blacksmiths, wheelwrights, carpenters, 
etc., and several small houses close by these were 
used as residences by the artisans working in the 
shops, and the laundresses and other civilian 
employes. 

Everywhere, everything, houses, fences and all were 
whitewashed ; and, centered on the carpet of rich 
green that stretched far away on all sides, the fort 
seemed to stand out, in bas-relief, a thing of exceed- 
ing beauty when viewed from a distance. 

'It shone refulgently in its coat of gleaming white, 
with the tinned magazine roof flashing like a mam- 
moth brilliant on its broad bosom. 

This quaint, little octagonal, semi-subterranean 
building was, as before intimated, beyond the fort 
proper, isolated for obvious reasons. But viewed 
from the long, gently sloping hill, the approaching 
party was descending, it looked as if centered on its 
very heart. 

The view in toto was exhilarating and beautiful. 
The polished gleaming bayonets and brass buttons 
of the soldiers danced and scintillated in the sum 
shine, emitting sparks and flashes innumerable. 

In front of one of the pretty vine-trellised cottages, 
on the officers’ line, a cavalcade of ladies and their 
escorts, were just mounting, to go out on a wolf hunt. 

The road was so smooth and the carriage made so 
little noise, that the barking of the hounds as they 
ran hither and thither, in wild delight, impatient for 
the start, could be distinctly heard, and the scene 
was animating in the extreme. 

Several prairie carriages were standing in front 
of the commanding officer’s quarters, the only two- 
story building in the garrison, and everything had 
the appearance of unusual activity. 


i8o 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Quite a number of Mexican mustangs were tied to 
the hitching posts in front of the post-trader’s store, 
and their owners were listlessly lolling in the shade. 

Men, in gray shirts and broad sombreros, were at 
work repairing the treillage, and trimming and beau- 
tifying the espalier, at the east and west ends of the 
hospital. 

Above, and in the very centre of all this busy 
spectacle, from the top of its towering mast, in the 
middle of that small sea of green, the parade ground, 
the great forty-four foot garrison flag floated 
proudly and gracefully in the breeze. 

“ What a garden spot of an oasis !” involuntarily 
exclaimed Moultrie. 

“ It certainly does look beautiful, down there,” 
coincided Fatty, pointing to the fort. 

“ Si Sefior, very pretty!” responded the tall 
Mexican, with a smile and a nod. 

Beaustrum cantered up alongside the carriages 
and said : 

“ I forgot to tell you that negotiations for a treaty 
of peace are afoot, and I should not wonder if those 
carriages, in front of headquarters, had brought the 
commissioners from Washington.” 

u It looks very much like it.” 

If so it should turn out, you will have a chance 
to see the biggest assemblage of the aristocracy of 
the plains that ever came together.” 

“ I don’t quite understand you,” said Moultrie. 

v ‘ Why, I mean all the head and lesser chiefs of 
these warlike red devils, who have been giving us so 
much trouble of late, will come in to attend a big 
council of peace. Then these infernal ‘ watch-fires/ 
and big smokes will cease.” 

“ Well, for my part, I should think that you of- 
ficers out here are better entitled to be styled ‘ The 
aristocracy of the plains/ ” said Moultrie'. 

“ Thank you,” replied Beaustrum. “ But, speak- 
ing of these Indians, there never have been more of 
them in it at any one time before. Yes, sir-eei 


FATTY FORBUSII SAVAGE ON ARMY OFFICERS. l8l 


This has been a big war. And, as a consequence, 
there will be the biggest peace powwow ever held in 
this country, and the biggest pile of scarlet stroud- 
ing given away, that was ever given them before. 

“ Mirabile dictu ! what has hit him ?” mentally 
exclaimed Fatty. 

And, afterward, when the team was driven on 
ahead of the cavalry, he explained himself. 

“ What a tumble Beaustrum did take !” he said to 
Moultrie. 

“ He did not use one solitary big word in his re- 
marks to you, not one.” 

“ Perhaps he thinks them beyond my comprehen- 
sion,” was the laughing response. 

But, sure enough, Beaustrum was correct, so they 
learned on arrival at the garrison. 

The great Indian peace commission had arrived 
from Washington, and arrangements were already in 
vigorous progress to establish, without delay, a sys- 
tem of estafette couriers, connecting all forts, camps, 
and Indian agencies, with the garrison, as soon as 
possible. 

Soldiers, scouts, interpreters, and friendly Indians, 
were to be utilized in this direction. 

Orders had been promulgated to communicate, as 
soon as possible, to all hostile chiefs and tribes, the 
message of peace from the “ Great Father in the big 
white lodge at Washington.” 

So Moultrie was promised an unexpected treat. 

He would be present at the greatest Indian coun- 
cil of peace ever held in the history of the country, 
and would see and shake hands with the fiercest and 
greatest of the red warriors of the plains. 

Nothing in this description would impress the 
reader with the idea that this place was really a fort> 
as forts are generally understood to be. 

There were no battlements, no rampart, no para- 
pet with frowning cannon peering out through nar- 
row embrasures, or standing guard en barbette, arid 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


182 

no line of circumvallation, save the spotlessly white 
walls of earth that enclosed the cottage yards. 

Yet it was a true type of an American fort on the 
Indian frontier. Many others were more, and many 
less, pretentious. 

All over the Indian frontier, these “cantonments ” 
are thus called. 

A majority of them have no more than one piece 
of artillery, and that, oftentimes, so very old and so 
honeycombed in the bore, as to be dangerous, if 
loaded heavily enough to be effective for defensive 
purposes. 

In fact, it is never thought of in that connection, 
and is only used for those needlessly expensive 
parades, so thought Fatty Forbush and Ysleta, a 
sunrise and sunset gun, and for funeral or national 
salutes. 

“ Thousands of dollars,” said Fatty to Moultrie, 
“ are annually wasted in this unnecessary practice, 
which might be better expended in improving high- 
ways, building bridges, erecting and outfitting life- 
saving stations, and in numerous other useful ways.” 

“ For those early days of semi-barbarism, when 
the fashion began, and civilization was groping in 
intellectual twilight, it was well enough, but now 
we have arrived at an age of enlightenment and 
practical common sense, that demands benefit for 
money and material expended.” Fatty was incor- 
rigible in his prejudices. 

The trite saying, “A little knowledge is a dan- 
gerous thing,” is, alas ! too oft exemplified in ex- 
ceedingly harmful directions. 


HERCULES UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS. 183 


CHAPTER XIX. 

AMID NEW SCENES HERCULES UNEXPECTEDLY 
APPEARS. 

To tell the truth, Moultrie was not particularly 
pleased with military life. He had seen too much 
drinking and gambling, 

First impressions, as he had received them at the 
camp just left, had not been wholly agreeable. 

Yet he secretly resented Fatty’s endeavor to force 
a forestallment of his judgment, and was willing to 
wait for further knowledge, gleaned from further 
association and experience. 

He was no crank. His life was in another sphere, 
on another plane. That was all. 

He never was, from early boyhood, illiberal inten- 
tionally, and never could have been in thought or 
act, because it was not in him. 

And now, he wondered if he had allowed himself 
to be unconsciously biased by Forbush openly, 
and Ysleta subtly. 

He was young, and youth exaggerates, and may- 
be he exaggerated all they said. 

At college he had looked upon Fatty as the very 
personification of shrewdness, liberality, truth, and 
alertness. 

He believed that notwithstanding the active es- 
pousal of his cause by Professor Cheval, and that 
friend’s well-planned effort to rescue him from 
Quantrell’s clutches, he would have most surely 
fallen a victim to that man, had not Forbush and 
Hercules so opportunely called into service the se- 
cret societies. 

He had great faith in Senor Ysleta, and at first 
did not take into due consideration his inborn hos- 
tility to American army officers. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


184 

Fatty never thought to, or at least never did, put 
in the balance against the few snubs he had received, 
the numerous courtesies of which he had been the 
recipient at the hands of army officers. 

He never stopped to array face to face, and pro 
and con, the undeniable and acknowledged merits as 
army officers and as gentlemen, of those who had 
treated him hospitably, against that meagre sprink- 
ling of conceited puppies and upstarts, who not only 
disgrace the army, but are also a reproach to every 
other respectable professional and non-professional 
walk of life, wherein they are found. 

He had encountered the same element at college, 
and had then said of them, that they were fit timber 
for the “ pons asinorum .” Had said it so often, that 
every one else had shouted, “chestnut.” 

He was unjustly biased adversely, and ridiculously 
so, for one of his intelligence, and his bias had its 
effect on Moultrie. 

One of Fatty’s hobbies that he aired most industri- 
ously, was the alleged extravagance and wastefulness 
of military men and military administration, and he 
cited the ceremony of firing a sunrise and. sunset 
gun, as an example. Yet he never did condemn 
civil service extravagance, however flagrant. 

“ Si Sefior, in everything they are lavish,” said 
Ysleta. 

Now no man living had a keener sense of exact 
justice than Moultrie, and “ he thought like lightning 
too,” Fatty was wont to declare. 

“Pardon me, Sefior,” he replied. “Let me say, 
those were high-toned, honorable gentlemen we left 
at the camp behind us, and funny as it may seem to 
you, Beaustrum is a pink of chivalry, I think. Please 
don’t interrupt me. He would defend a woman’s 
honor at all hazards. Most certainly I can see that 
in his face, and he never, I notice, joins in gossip 
about the gentler sex. 

“ However, I will give you a chance to convince 


HERCULES UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS. 1 8 $ 

hie, if you can, that you know what you are talking 
about. 

“ But please let up on those gentleman for the 
present. I am very grateful for all their hospitality 
and courtesy. 

“ When you talk about extravagance do not cite 
that camp, you are * a long way off your base, if 
you do. 

“ And now, as we approach this garrison, I can see, 
through my glasses, one thing that I saw at the camp 
that struck me as very economical as well as a capital 
idea. 

“ I mean those brooms made from the branches 
of trees. What gentleman in civilization would use 
anything of the kind to sweep his lawn with ? 

“ If he couldn’t do any better than that he would 
let it go unswept. 

“ And how skillfully those soldiers handled them, 
and how thoroughly neat and cleanly they made 
everything look. 

“ As for announcing the in-coming and out-going 
of day, by cannon firing, I can see no reasonable 
objection to it. Bridges, roads and public buildings 
could be built cheaper without ornamentation, but 
we prefer the ornaments notwithstanding the ex- 
pense. 

“ Gunpowder belongs to the military profession 
the same as electricity and steam belong to certain 
trades, and who wishes machinery to be less ornate. 

“ If you propose to silence the morning and even- 
ing gun of these people, why not go further, and 
stop the factory whistles and church bells ? 

“ Prohibit fire-alarm boxes, and electric signals. 

“ You have just as much right and there would be 
just as much and not a whit less of reason in doing 
so. Drums, cannon and trumpets have their ap- 
pointed uses, like other things. 

“ You are prejudiced, Fatty, that is plain to see,” 
said Moultrie. “ Let me base my conclusions on 
my own observations.” 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


1 86 

It was four miles down that long, gently sloping 
hill to the fort, but our friends drove on at a brisk 
gait, leaving the cavalry to come in more leisurely, 
and soon pulled up in front of the post-trader’s. 

They were received with great cordiality, and 
made comfortable and at home, in a very short time. 

That evening there was to be a hop, given in 
honor of the paymaster, who had arrived the day 
previous, on his bi-monthly visit for the purpose of 
making payments to the troops. 

Of course, Moultrie and his friends were invited. 

There were two officers and one lady at the fort, 
whom Moultrie had met before, but whose presence 
there he was in ignorance of. And they, on their 
part, although his name had been mentioned repeat- 
edly, during the evening, before their introduction 
to him, little suspected he was the De Kalb they 
knew. 

But of this more anon. 

There were other causes that conspired to estab- 
lish Moultrie’s advent in this place as a sort of epoch 
in his life. 

There were several young ladies there, with three 
of whom Moultrie later on became well acquainted. 
They had come out to the remote frontier ostensibly 
on a visit to “ their sisters, or their aunts, or their 
uncles, or their cousins,” but in truth were on a sein- 
ing expedition for those whom, in their inexperience, 
they considered would make desirable husbands. 

What an infatuation girls do have for gold lace 
and military uniforms. 

Shoulderstraps were their especial ambition, but 
somehow, with ever so much of adroit angling, their 
wished-for gold-fish would not bite. 

The appearance of Moultrie, heralded as I have 
heretofore mentioned, as a veritable Croesus, a 
Monte Christo, was therefore asort of God-send. 

That he would immediately fall desperately in love 
with them, they confidently believed. Not the 


HERCULES UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS). 1 87 

slightest suspicion of anything, to the contrary, 
entered their dear little heads. 

Which of them would finally capture him, was the 
problem. 

Of course, he would be charmed with each. 

He would pose for them (with pertect self-uncon- 
sciousness) jointly, as a real novelty, and a most 
interesting and veritable saviour, redeeming them, 
by his attentions, from a repetition of their oft-re- 
peated efforts to entangle military bachelors. They 
never thought, for an instant, that, possibly, he 
might have a dear little sweetheart somewhere far 
away. Or if so, they would be smart enough to 
find it out and cut her out. And, in any event, a 
nice' little flirtation would be “ just too sweet for 
anything.” 

It was to be a crucial trial for him, too, for, though 
little used to ladies’ society, he, somehow, was al- 
ways shrewdly conscious of the fact, when being 
covertly guyed, or, from selfish motives, paid osten- 
tatious attention. And he distrusted and hated 
whomever he detected so doing, and was, in his con- 
sequent anger, sometimes abrupt and a little rude. 

At the hour he drove up to the store, Mrs. Olds, 
the wife of the post-trader, was dressing to go out 
into the garrison, to tell the ladies what delicious 
sandwiches, “ and such a stack of them,” she had 
made for the ball, as well as cake and four dozen 
tarts. 

She waited, however, long enough to have a glass 
of wine, and a five minutes’ talk with Moultrie, and 
then left him in her husband’s care. 

She was a chatty little woman, much given to 
word-painting in flashy colors, no matter how much 
more subdued and modest, or even sombre tints, 
would have accorded with whatever the subject 
might be. She was therefore generally accredited 
with a disposition to exaggerate, not that she did so, 
but because of her way of expressing opinions, and 
her bright temperament gave that impression. 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


l8& 

Therfc 'wa§ not a pa' r ^ c ^ e °f malice in her nature. 
Though her naturally /Sunshiny disposition would 
cloud up immediately, at .any ill natured snubbing of 
which she, or any friend, w^s made the victim, and 
she would promptly resent insufferable arrogance, 
much of which she encountered, with as great warmth 
as anyone else. 

She always valorously championed those she liked, 
regardless of who were her opponents. 

There were several intolerant army ladies in the 
garrison, who frequently affronted her with super- 
cilious airs, and implied sneers at “shopkeepers.” 

In fact, they sat down on her ” whenever oppor- 
tunity offered. 

The wine she had taken just before going out, 
loosened her tongue, always voluble enough, and 
the baking over a hot stove had flushed her face 
unusually, when she entered Mrs. Durant’s cottage. 

That lady — a lieutenant’s wife — was a little, light 
haired, affected woman, reared in a New Jersey vil- 
lage, from where she had made occasional trips to 
Gotham, each succeeding one of which, only in- 
< creased her yearning for permanent metropolitan 
life. 

She would have been pretty but for her chronic 
- discontent, that brought crows-feet under her eyes, 

. and. creased the corners of her mouth with unbe- 
c coming, premature wrinkles. 

Furthermore, when she was vexed, those corners 
would draw down, and then she looked positively 
homely. 

Another matter that militated against her chances 
for popularity was her senseless and transparent 
attempt to imitate the elegant blast f, of her best 
friend, Mrs. Ponsonbys. She seemed to consider 
Mrs. P. especially distingu£, and her prime ambition 
was to make herself, as nearly as possible, her alter 
idem . 

There was as much consistency and sense in her, in 
this connection, as there is in a stout man who buys 


Hercules unexpectedly appears. 189* 


a certain style of coat because it looks well on a- 
slim man. 

Or a short man who goes straightway and pur^ 
chases a certain new fashion in hats, because he has 
discovered it is becoming to a certain tall friend. 

Mrs. Ponsonbys was a voluptuous, imposing look= 
ing, city-bred lady, the very antipodes of Mrs. DU-- 
rant. She was taller and a positive brunette, with 
large dreamy brown eyes, black hair and eyebfoWS, 
a decidedly retrouss£, though pretty nose, and a per- 
fect mouth. 

The contour of her face and chin was perfect, and 
in general tout ensemble she was a model of her style 
of beauty. 

She was with Mrs. Durant in her sitting room 
when Mrs. Olds called. 

So also was Miss Swimm, neice of the colonel com-., 
manding the garrison, and Miss Leclerque, a sister- 
of another officer. Mrs. Ponsonbys’ reception of 
Mrs. Olds was so lazily elegant and politely conde-- 
scending that Mrs. Durant sighed and turned up her 
eyes, because she could not successfully imitate it. 

Miss Swimm was about twenty-eight years of age. 

She was a sort of companion and governess forher 
uncle’s wife, a somewhat fat, indolent, and envious 
matron, whose children were weak-minded and ma- 
levolent, and whose vicious disposition toward other 
children the mother senselessly encouraged, on the 
silly ground that, as the offspring of the command- 
ing officer, they had a perfect right to browbeat. 

Notwithstanding her obesity, which seemed very 
uncomfortable to her, and her acidity of temper, Mrs. 
Swimm had very pretty small, plump hands. 

But no one was half as conscious of it as herself. 

In the ball-room and in the chapel one of these 
hands was always ungloved, but at home, in private, 
they were bathed in mysterious preparations, andl 
bandaged with exceeding care, in order that tfieir 
rare comeliness might be perpetuated. 

In public they were conspicuously exhibited, just 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


tgb 

as merchants parade their best wares ostentatiously 
in shop windows. 

Sometimes one of them served to prop up the chin, 
sometimes it lingered, through many flitting mo- 
ments, at the back hair, adjusting some unoffending 
hairpin. 

In a hundred ways and constantly they Were pa- 
raded with evident pride* the way in which it oc- 
curred depending entirely on the position of the 
observer. 

If he sat behind her, the back of the chair was the 
point of attack. If in front, the chatelaine, and if he 
had to be approached, the bric-a-brac. 

Rumor said that, between her and the children, 
Miss Swimm, the niece, had a very hard time of it. 

Gaunt had on several occasions incurred Madame’s 
everlasting enmity, but he had recently intensified 
her concentrated hatred of him, by a sally uttered 
on the evening of a reception, when he was in the 
midst of one of his periodical sprees. 

He had been looking at, and silently admiring her 
beautiful hand (and she was fully aware of the fact), 
when suddenly he exclaimed, without comprehend- 
ing the full force of his utterance, 

“ What a great pity it is that there are so many 
ladies in society, who cannot even run a scale on a 
piano, in fact cannot read one note from another. 
Piano playing, I think, affords them the best excuse 
in the world to exhibit their charming hands, lavish- 
ly, without exciting any suspicion whatever of 
vanity/’ 

Mrs. Swimm, of course, was furious, and, to cap 
the climax, the wretch invited her to dance. 

He knew she could not, and she knew that he 
knew it. 

“ He is drunk !” she said, and walked away, much 
disgusted. 

Could any one expect anything else from such an 
erratic ? Why, once, at the funeral of a brave 
fellow, whom he had “ fettered to his heart with links 


HERCULES UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS. 191 


of steel,” Gaunt, after celebrating his demise in 
copious libations, had stood at the foot of the coffin 
and sung, with tears in his eyes, 

“ Oh ! He was a jolly good fellow,” etc. 

There was something about Miss Swimm that was 
singularly attractive. 

She was not so very pretty, but there was a pe- 
culiarity of manner, and a singular expression, and 
the slightest perceptible of lisps when she talked, 
coupled with convincing simple earnestness, and a 
wistful, expectant look out of the round, staring 
eyes, that involuntarily claimed your attention, and 
excited a positively pleasurable feeling. 

She sat a horse like a queen of equestrienneship, 
but, after some of her maddest gallops, never showed 
any color. 

Her face was broad, habitually pale, and when un- 
influenced by excitement, more or less clammy. 
But that did not detach from the interest it inspired. 

She seemed almost without a neck, it was so short, 
and her shoulders were so high and square. 

She was Anglo-Saxon purely, with short wide 
hands and stubby fingers, and possessed none of 
those accomplishments usual among young ladies 
brought up, in recent years, by parents of ordinary 
means or culture. 

<( She’s a daisy ! ” Gaunt had often said, “ and a 
splendid spoon for out here, but I’d have to be awful 
forgetful of myself to tie to her for life.” 

One thing could be said of Miss Swimm, decidedly 
in her favor, she knew fully as well as any one else, 
that her education had been sadly neglected, and 
she had none of the coarse pretension of her obtuse 
aunt, 


192 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XX. 

SOME OF MOULTRIE’S NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 

Miss Leclerque had big blue-gray, expressive 
eyes, that became sombre or brilliant, as the light or 
some sudden emotion affected them, and they looked 
out frankly from under long gold-hued lashes. 

They were the windows through which one saw a 
guileless and lovable heart. 

Her soul peered out through these beautiful eyes, 
and talked to you eloquently in voiceless language. 

She was good, pretty and sensible. 

Possibly a tendency to aesthetics gave her at times, 
in speech and pose, the appearance of being some- 
what affected. But she was not so in the least. 

Mrs. Rigby and Miss Wilbur, the other two ladies 
in this bevy, were, in facial lineaments, the direct 
opposites. 

Mrs. Rigby was slender in figure and angular. 

Her forehead slanted forward, as it rose from 
above the eyebrows, and overhung the balance of 
the face. The cheek bones were high, her eyes 
sunken, and her nose hooked. 

The upper lip was short and thin, and was consid- 
erably over-lapped by the lower when the mouth was 
closed, and went out of sight when she was angered 
■ or indignant. 

The chin protruded so that a line drawn from its 
point to the top of the forehead would describe the 
chord of an arc. In other words, her face, perpen- 
dicularly, was crescent shaped. 

She was very talkative and remarkably plausible. 

There was some genuine good feeling and much 
humbug in her sympathy, and she described the 
most improbable thing with an air of vraisemblance 
absolutely astounding. Gaunt declared she could 
utter four hundred words to the minute. Fatty was 


some of Moultrie’s new acquaintances. 193 

struck dumb in his first attempt to converse with 
her. 

It was impossible, she assumed, for anyone to have 
been first in the introduction of any household nov- 
elty on the frontier — a hobby of hers — or ahead in 
any timely suggestion, or the victim of more hair- 
breadth escapes. And no one could have been the 
heroine of more thrilling episodes than she, accord- 
ing to her version. 

Ever and anon her husband was completely over- 
whelmed, when besieged for confirmation of her 
stories, by some defeated maid or matron, who, after 
retailing some exciting adventure, had been thrust 
abruptly into the shade by the narration of some 
Gulliver-like and surpassing experience of his invinc- 
ible wife. 

Miss Wilbur’s face would, in profile from forehead 
to chin, represent the convex side of an arc. From* 
eyebrows that rose like promontories over very light 
blue-green eyes, the forehead retreated at an angle-' 
of several degrees, as it mounted upward. 

The cheeks were very fleshy, red, and always* 
abundantly powdered. They looked like the two- 
halves of a beautiful peach split open, with the fuzz 
left on, and a modest pug nose set in between. 

And when she joined the other ladies in a sorosis, 
or a game of croquet on the parade ground, she af- 
fected a jaunty little Fez, crimson or yellow, trimmed 
with gold braid, and topped off with a short, goldl 
tassel, or pompom. 

Her lips were thick and scarlet, and the mouth,, 
quite wide and cut straight across the face, described 
an outward curve, from corner to corner, with no- 
terminating dimples to relieve the suggestion of 
mathematics. 

From the crest of the lower lip, the chin began a 
precipitate retreat, and when the head was picched 
forward, its poor diminutive little point was utterly 
lost in the billowy flesh at the throat. 


194 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Her teeth were regular, well kept, and really beau- 
tiful, and her hands small and pretty. 

She would have been a fine companion for the 
sphinx, because she always listened with rapt atten- 
tion and very seldom spoke. 

She would take in gossip, openmouthed and vora- 
ciously, but was never known to retail it. 

She was ingenuous, kind and popular. 

After the formality of greeting, Mrs. Olds de- 
scribed, in glowing language, what she had prepared 
in the way of refreshments, and then announced, in 
a somewhat triumphant manner, the sudden arrival 
of her husband’s partner, 

“ Indeed, an’ ! Then he has weached he-ah at 
lawst, has he ?” Said Mrs. Durant, in a drawling, 
affected tone, 

“We have lund” — (meaning learned) — “he was 
coming, sometime ago, I suppose the sto-ah— (mean- 
ing store) — “ will be verah much enlarged now. 
Won’t it ?” 

“ What does he look like?” asked Miss Swimm, 
in a straightforward, practical way. 

“ He is very nice, isn’t he ?” Said Miss Leclerque. 

“ Oh ! Remarkably ! Remarkably nice f ” 

Exclaimed Mrs. Ponsonbys, in a die-away J manner, 
not waiting for Mrs. Olds to reply. 

“ There’s no end to his property, either in mines, 
horses, cattle and stores, and in land, in New Mexico 
and Colorado, and in bank and railroad stocks, and 
everything else for that matter.” Said Mrs. Rigby, 
positively. 

“ My husband says he would retire from the army 
in five minutes if he owned one fiftieth part of his 
money and property.” 

“Well, I should smile!” exclaimed Mrs Olds, 
triumphantly. With a toss of her head. 

“ Rich ! Why that’s no name for it ! he’s rolling 
in wealth ! Just r-o-l-l-i-n-g ! And what’s more, he 
knows how to pile it up higher! 'You bet!’ as 
Billy would say — And he’s young, and so handsome, 


SOME OF MOULTRIE’S NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 195 

and so very liberal too ! Why he brought an agent 
with him, to take care of his interest in his business 
here with my husband, and a great, fine-looking 
Mexican cattle-king besides, to look after some 
grand stock speculation ! He’ll make business 
just hum, in these parts. Just wait and see if he 
don’t. 

“ I tell you , he don’t do anything by halves, and 
he looks awful young, for such a great millionaire. 
Billy says he will just put life into business, and 
that’s something that has been needed a long while. 
He is the “ success fulest ” man in the West, with his 
mines and his hotels and his live-stock and stores 
and other things ! But you’ll all see him to-night, 
for he’s going to the hop with Billy and me.” 

And Mrs. Olds bestowed a complacent glance 
around, as she made this last announcement. 

But the covert looks exchanged among her listeners 
were not complacent. They were all decidedly jeal- 
ous. 

Many questions and answers followed,; and a 
rattling conversation, with all talking at once, was 
kept up for some minutes. 

After she left Mrs. Durant’s, the conversation, in 
so far as it referred to Mrs. Olds, was not compli- 
mentary. 

She had incidentally, but somewhat exultantly, 
said she had taken a glass of wine with Moultrie, 
before hurrying over there, to tell them of his sudden 
arrival, and this, more than anything else, piqued 
the other ladies. 

It seemed too bad, they thought, that some one 
higher in the social scale had not been first to re- 
ceive and bid him welcome. 

They had all, in different ways, set the young man 
up as a species of demi-god, and then built air- 
castles about him, for themselves to occupy. Post- 
traders make many presents to army ladies, and 
each of these estimable maids and matrons had been 
storing up their prospective share of the golden 


196 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


fleece, when the shearing time of the wonderful, 
coming, affluent lamb should arrive. 

“ Rolling in wealth,” was a sweet morsel to nurse 
under their tongues, for doubtless he was also very 
susceptible, and could be cajoled or hypnotized 
into bestowing munificent gifts. 

And “ liberal and generous ” suggested a good 
many possibilities. 

Mirabile dictu 1 What might not come of it ? 
And for her, ‘ that miserable Mrs. Olds ! ’ A mere 
shop-keeper’s wife, and he not much of a shop- 
keeper at that, to be the first in the whole garrison, 
to extend courtesy to this wonderful owner of the 
golden fleece. 

It was just too insufferable to think of ! 

“ Rolling in wealth ! ” 

That was the pedestal they stood him on. 

One by one the ladies withdrew, and Mrs. Durant 
nervously summoned and sent a “ dog-robber ” 
hurriedly, in search of her husband. 

He was found, too deeply absorbed over an excit- 
ing game of cards, to respond promptly, and Mrs, 
D. bit her lip and wept scalding tears of vexation, 
as she saw Major Rigby pass her cottage, and enter 
the post-trader’s. 

“Anyone but him! Oh dear! Anyone but 
him ! ” 

She exclaimed, bitterly. 

(t O why couldn’t Henry come !” 

And she stamped vehemently on her handker- 
chief that dropped at the moment from her hand 
to the carpet. 

•“ If it had been Captain Ponsonbys I wouldn’t 
care, or even Colonel Swimm, because he is the 
commanding officer !” 

“But old Rigby! Just to think of it! Old 
Rigby, of all persons!” 

And alas, also, for their dames ! Ponsonbys and 
Swimm were sampling some new liquors, recently 
arrived, and smoking Henry Clay Conchas, <*t that 


SOME OF MOULTRIE’S NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 197 

very moment, and neither spouse could find her 
lord. 

The Rigby’s therefore were victors in this silly 
little conflict, and Moultrie stretched his legs under 
their mahogany first at dinner. 

It was after ten o’clock that evening when, with 
Mrs. Olds, he entered the ball-room. 

She had been in no hurry to get him there, rather 
enjoying the “ hope deferred that maketh the heart 
sick,” which, for over an hour, had filled the souls of 
the other expectant ladies. 

As- he entered through the doorway, which was 
gayly festooned with flags, and opened into the main 
barracks, a quadrille was just ending. 

A buzz of voices greeted his appearance, and all 
eyes were turned toward him. 

Major Rigby, who, at his wife’s request, immedi- 
ately approached, took charge of and conducted him 
to the gentlemen’s dressing-room, while Mrs. Olds 
hurried into that for the ladies. 

Down at the lower end of the long room stood a tall, 
muscular-looking gentleman conversing with Miss 
Leclerque and another lady, whose loveliness of face 
and form made her the cynosure of all eyes. 

“ I wonder where the lion of the evening can be 
keeping himself,” she remarked, with an arch smile, 
to Miss Leclerque, and a look that seemed to say, 
“ You ought to know or would very much like to.” 

“ That I can’t tell,” 

Was the reply, and then with an admiring glance, 

“ I am sufficiently entertained with the lioness.” 

And she tapped the beautiful, bare arm of the 
lovely stranger affectionately with her crimson and 
white fan. 

I have said “ stranger ” using the term only in the 
relationship of the reader to this lady. She was not 
a stranger in the garrison, by any means. 

The tall gentleman was her husband and was, in 
rank, one of the junior officers on duty at the fort. 


198 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


His wife was not a pronounced blonde, though 
her hair was like threads of Titian gold. 

Her complexion, when in repose, was of dazzling 
whiteness, and her face a little too long to be called 
round. 

The forehead was not high, and yet you could not 
call it low, and the soft, dark eyebrows looked as if 
pencilled by some master limner. 

The eyes seemed to speak almost articulately as 
they gazed into your own, and you could not help 
going, in response, down into their rich, liquid 
depths, where you fell a captive to their spell, and 
entered as if by magic helplessly into full sympathy 
with the moods they reflected. 

Veiled somewhat by a mesh of long, silken lashes, 
those bright, beautiful, everchanging windows of the 
soul, looked like a brace of very Kohinoors, shining, 
now mistily, then resplendently. 

A faint, pink tint, when she was slightly animated, 
mantled the gracefully rounded cheek which, in the 
excitement of the dance, flushed richly. 

The upper lip, from the nostrils down, was rather 
long, but served only to bring out, in bolder relief, 
the exquisitely chiseled, perfect, Grecian nose. 

The mouth, when at rest, had the merest insinua- 
tion of a pout, and on its soft, pliant outlines, there 
reposed, unconsciously, a wealth of sweetness. 

Like the other features of her expressive face, it 
was susceptible of most eloquent changes, that 
came and went with emotion, slowly, or suddenly as 
. a lightning flash. 

About five feet five inches in height, with pretty, 
sloping shoulders, well rounded, plump and shapely 
arms, and long tapering fingers, she was what Mrs. 
Rigby uniformly told every new comer : 

“ A thing of beauty, which is a joy forever.” 

“ Mrs. R. sets great store by this quotation,” Mrs. 
Olds told Moultrie, after the hop was over. 

“ Besides being perfectly lovely,” Mrs. Rigby 
would continue,—™ 


SOME OF MOULTRIE S NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 1 99 

“ She is as graceful as a willow ; as amiable as an 
angel, and so wonderfully cute and magnetic, that 
every one has to just give right up and join in, when- 
ever she talks and laughs.” 

Her husband, reader, is an old friend. 

Before Moultrie saunters down the ball-room, with 
Mrs. Olds on his arm, let us renew his acquaintance. 

He was the Enceladus of Cedar-Crest College, who 
rebelled against the fictitious law-minions under 
Quantrell, on the railroad embankment, that dark 
midnight you wot of, when Moultrie took Horace 
Greeley’s advice, and “went West.” He was more 
successful, however, than the other giant of that 
name, who rebelled against ancient Rome’s supreme 
God. 

He completely worsted Quantrell and his hench- 
men, you will recollect, and sent Moultrie speeding 
on his west-bound trip, never expecting to again 
meet him, in this far away garrison, so remote from 
civilization. 

We met him then as Hercules , and as Hercules we 
will continue to know him. 

The bright little being you have been introduced 
to, and who has taken him “ for better or for worse 
— through sickness and through health — ” we shall 
call “ Mrs. Hercules.” 

The last people to whom Moultrie was introduced, 
before reaching his old friend, were lieutenant 
Gabbler and his petite wife. Now Gabbler was a 
good enough sort of fellow, so every one said, but 
his petite wife was a terror — in crinoline. 

Although not over five yards away, at this time, 
Hercules failed to recognize Moultrie, and Moultrie 
in his turn, had been so engaged that he had not set 
eyes, as yet, on his old schoolmate. 


200 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE GARRISON HOP. 

It was during a lull in the music, and after Mrs. 
Olds had surrendered her escort to Mrs. Gabbler, 
that the two became aware of the presence of each 
other. 

The latter heard the former laugh, turned sud- 
denly, and looking more closely, abruptly left his 
wife’s side and strode toward him. 

Moultrie, of course, had not the slightest idea that 
Hercules was within a thousand miles of the place, 
much less, as a regular army officer. In fact he had 
not had him in his mind at all. 

Hercules had changed considerably too, having 
now a long, dark moustache and goatee, and his 
hair shingled short. Whereas he was beardless, and 
had had long hair, when a student at Cedar-Crest. 

Mrs. Gabbler was the first to observe his approach, 
and believed him under the influence of liquor. 

Quick as a flash — (little women are always quick) 
— she resolved to introduce him, and then, afterward, 
soon as she could get Moultrie away, apologize, in a 
manner that would put him low in Moultrie’s 
opinion, without seeming to be so intended, for she 
disliked Hercules, both because he was more popular 
than her husband, and also because his wife was the 
belle of the fort. 

She was a wily, cunning little creature, this Mrs. 
Gabbler, and never forgave our Enceladus for bring- 
ing into the garrison a lady so infinitely more attrac- 
tive than herself, and so superior to her in every re- 
spect, as his wife was. She skillfully, later on, led 
that beautiful but weak wife, to that point where 
domestic differences that should only have provoked 
ordinary family jars, were made the occasion of most 


THE GARRISON HOP. 


201 


serious ruptures and a final divorce. And jealousy 
was her only motive. 

By hints and inuendoes she kindled a flame that 
grew and finally destroyed Hercules, so far as do- 
mestic peace and further military service were con- 
cerned. 

This she did so cunningly, however, and pulled 
her strings so subtly, that she was never suspected, 
by either of the two so deeply concerned, until too 
late. And then only by Hercules. His wife never 
lost confidence in her. And how could she ? Mrs* 
Gabbler, all along pretended, most successfully, deep 
sympathy and unselfish devotion to Mrs. Hercules, 
and did, to a certain extent, admire and love her. 

But this she could not help, for Mrs. H. was really 
lovable, and Mrs. Gabbler kissed her merely because 
she liked to do it. 

There was nothing more to be counted on, in her 
conduct in this particular, than is presented when a 
very hungry man eats a remarkably excellent dinner, 
with unusual greediness. 

Turning suddenly and halting her partner, face to 
face with him, just as Hercules came up, she said, — 

“ Here is one of our young officers who would 
like to know you, Mr. De Kalb, let me introduce him, 

“ Mr. De Kalb, Lieutenant Hercules — Lieutenant 
Hercules, Mr. De Kalb.” 

But she had not finished before Hercules, thor- 
oughly satisfied it was his former schoolmate, ex- 
claiming, 

“ Why, you dear old boy !” 

Took him in his arms and lifted him off the floor, 
like an ordinary man would an infant. 

His wife, not knowing what to make of the per- 
formance, hurried to his side, a look of mingled ex- 
pectancy, surprise and inquiry distending her lovely 
eyes. “ What could such rude, unseemly conduct 
mean ? ” she asked herself. 

And Miss Leclerque hurried after her. 

Of course everyone near by turned to look, and 


202 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


those further up the room, observing something un- 
usual, exclaimed : 

“ Look there !” 

Or “What’s the commotion ?’’ 

Or, “O dear me, what can the matter be?” 

Mrs. Gabbler, pointing to Hercules, whispered, 
ominously to Mrs. Rigby, the person nearest her, 

“ He’s drunk again ; isn’t it a shame ?” 

And they both made commiserating eyes at each 
other. 

Now the reader, before going further, should know 
that Mrs. Hercules was a sort of monomaniac on the 
subject of liquor. It made her positively wild if her 
husband got under its influence, or even imbibed but 
once. 

When he saw his wife standing near and looking 
quizzically, Hercules released Moultrie, keeping one 
arm around his waist, however, and said, 

“ Grace, dear, this is my old schoolmate, Moultrie 
DeKalb, that I have told you so much about. Shake 
hands with him. And now, Moultrie, old boy, you 
and Grace must be good friends, for the sake of 
‘auld lang syne.’ ” 

They exchanged greetings very cordially, and Mrs. 
Hercules said something about “ the great surprise 
and pleasure it was to find that the new trader was 
a gentleman her husband regarded so sincerely,” and 
more in the same drift. And as she caught up the 
delight irradiating the manly features of that person- 
age, and reflected it from her own luminous eyes and 
speaking face, Moultrie was thoroughly bewitched 
with her entrancing beauty. 

Little Mrs. Gabbler stole up alongside, looking as 
innocent as a kitten, and took one of Mrs. Hercules’ 
hands, whereupon Mrs. Rigby remarked, sotto voce , 
that she had made 

“A great mistake,” 

Referring to the former’s charge that Hercules was 
drunk. 

A quick glance of warning was all the answer Mrs. 


THE GARRISON HOP. 20$ 

Gabbler vouchsafed, but the passage did not escape 
the wife and she asked, with wondering eyes, 

“What grand mistake? Tell me, for goodness 
sake, dear,” looking inquiringly into Mrs. Gabbler’s 
dissembling face. 

Which question Mrs. Gabbler feigned to not hear, 
and said, half audibly, to Mrs. Rigby. 

“ He was drunk with overwhelming pleasure at the 
unexpected meeting with his dear old schoolmate.” 

“ Oh ! ” was the answering exclamation, in a tone 
and with a suggestive shrug that Mrs. G dis- 

liked, and which made the others present feel un- 
easy. Mrs. Rigby did so hate hypocrisy. That 
could not be reckoned as in her catalogue of faults. 
Nor was she malicious. 

Hercules scowled for an instant, without any tan- 
gible or intelligent reason under the sun — he after- 
ward said to himself, except that he didn’t fancy 
Mrs. Gabbler. And his wife looked inquiringly at 
Mrs. Rigby, who walked off with some one, at the 
moment opportunely passing. 

Then the two gentlemen excused themselves to 
the ladies, and strolled, arm in arm, down the ball- 
room. 

“ That old woman will always misconstrue,” 

Said Mrs. Gabbler, after she was beyond earshot. 

And Mrs. Hercules answered, 

“ Never mind, dear,” and put her arm around her, 
and never asked what had been misconstrued. 

And thus she was blindly hugging to her bosom 
— a viper. 

A matter of excessive annoyance, at this time, 
presented itself to the young officer. There were 
half as many more families in the garrison as there 
were necessary “ quarters ” for. His regulation al- 
lowance was two rooms. 

As a consequence everyone had to “ double up,” 
according to rank. This had reduced him to one 
room. 

“ Doubling up ” — in military parlance — means 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


$04 

two officers occupying the quarters usually giver! 

one. 

That is, everyone had to take half his regular 
allowance of rooms, in the several cottages, and 
Hercules, being one of the junior officers, fared as 
badly as the worst. 

Where bachelors only are thus inconvenienced, 
the deprivation is not so bad. But to a newly-mar- 
ried lady, who had always had a luxurious home, it 
is a serious hardship, and this was the case with 
Hercules’ wife. 

He had only one room in which to eat, sleep and 
receive company, of which he would have had con- 
siderable, had his wife been half as sociable as people 
desired her to be. 

His cooking was done in a tent, set upon a frame 
in the back-yard, and his servant slept in another 
and smaller one, behind it. 

It was impossible, therefore, for him to carry out 
the wish nearest his heart, i. e., entertain Moultrie 
under his own vine and fig-tree. ‘‘No!” he said, 
“ I haven’t any vine, and my fig-tree is left out in 
the cold. I hope dear Moultrie will understand the 
situation.” 

Of course his explanation on this point was per- 
fectly satisfactory, and furthermore, his invitation 
to breakfast the next morning was frankly and cor- 
dially accepted, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Gab- 
bler, who had hoped that some insurmountable 
reason might exist to prevent, or that it would not 
be tendered. And that she, at least, would be the 
first in the garrison to have him at a morning meal. 

Two ladies of the Fort were absent from the hop 
that night, on account of indisposition, and the hus- 
bands of two others, instead of being at home, were 
at the officers’ club-room, enjoying a game of cards. 

A few minutes before midnight Moultrie walked 
across the parade-ground with Hercules and his wife, 
and leaving the lady at her quarters the two old 


THE OFFICERS* CLUB. 20$ 

schoolmates sauntered down to the club, on the way- 
meeting Mr. and Mrs. Olds, en route home. 

This seductive resort was an extension of the post 
trader’s store, about forty-five by thirty feet, and con- 
tained, beside billiard tables, two large round tables 
with dice, chess, dominoes, and several euchre decks 
for the free use of officers and their friends. 

It was fitted up and maintained by the trader and 
paid him handsomely. 

Every military garrison on the Indian border has 
a club-room, more or less pretentious. Some are 
maintained by the officers solely and are quite ex- 
clusive. 

Others are in the nature of an annex to the Post 
Trader’s store. Some are paying establishments, 
others are just about self-maintaining, and still 
others are a veritable incubus on the purse of their 
supporters. This latter number is very small, how- 
ever. 

The club-room, being the most spacious at Fort 

S , it was there the great “ pow-wow ” or peace 

council with the Indian chiefs was held. Moultrie 
and Fatty had ample opportunity to witness it, as 
they had rooms in the residence portion of the build- 
ing adjoining. And it proved a great treat, being 
both entertaining and instructive. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE OFFICERS’ CLUB. FATTY’S MISTAKE. HER- 
CULES RESCUES MOULTRIE. 


THE residence portion of the long, rambling, rect- 
angular post-trader building was occupied by Mr. 
Olds and his clerks. After leaving Mrs. Olds there, 
he, Moultrie and Hercules, delayed some little while 


io 6 moDltrie de kalb. 

chatting, during which time several officers, in full 
dress, were seen passing down the walk to the club. 

Probably seven or eight had thus gone by before 
Olds conducted his companions around the front to 
the inside. 

As they entered the well-lighted room, one party 
of four gentlemen, in uniform, was discovered ab- 
sorbed in a game of poker at one of the round tables, 
each having small piles of red, white and blue ivory 
“ chips ” at his elbow, which represented more or less 
money, previously deposited in what was called the 
bank, an empty cigar box, in charge of one of the 
players, who had been chosen banker. 

At the billiard table another group was engaged 
at pin pool, a popular frontier game at that time. 

The loser of each game, in the latter case, ordered 
such refreshments as each of the other players de- 
sired ; liquid or solid or both. 

In the course of several games several drinks 
would be taken, and the participants who drank each 
time would become more or less exhilarated. 

An unquestioned authority [on the subject has 
said that, 

“As a seductive mill, for the grinding out of 
drunkards and gamblers, the pool-table is the peer 
of any other agent that can be mentioned in civilized 
circles.” 

It is far more attractive to the majority of young 
men than whist, poker, blue peter, or any other 
gambling game at cards. 

The appearance of Moultrie was something in the 
nature of a divertisement. 

A game at the pool-table had just been lost, and 
the loser was asking the others what refreshments 
they would take. 

He had been introduced to Moultrie at the hop, 
and therefore, in courtesy, invited him and his com- 
panions to, quoting his own phraseology, 

“ Nominate their pizen.” 

Hercules, promptly, with a bright smile, called for 


THE OFFICERS’ CLUB. 


20 7 


“ a stiff whiskey,” meaning a big drink, while Olds 
drank beer with Moultrie. 

A pleasant, miscellaneous conversation followed. 

A stalwart young officer, who had been a looker 
on, and Olds joining the pool party, while Moultrie, 
seated at the vacant table, glanced over the news- 
papers, every now and then passing a pleasant word 
or two with the different players. 

While thus engaged there was a brief break in the 
card-playing at the other table, and a couple of the 
players left the room. 

One of them passed close to Moultrie, who looked 
up at the same moment, to answer a laughing sally 
by a member of the pool-party. As he did so, he 
caught the eye of the passing card-player, and that 
person, considerably under the influence of his pota- 
tions, halted abruptly, with an expression of amaze- 
ment on his semi-stupid features. 

Neither Moultrie nor the gentleman who had 
Spoken to him, could help but notice it, and the 
latter, for some reason unexplained, not, perhaps, 
being on speaking terms with the subject of this 
strange conduct, turned away, not proffering the in- 
troduction usual under such circumstances. After 
pausing a moment, the poker-player proceeded to 
the exit door, muttering unintelligibly, but before 
reaching it, in passing another of the pool party, he 
asked, 

“ Who in thunder is that “ cit.” over there ?” 

When informed he exclaimed, 

“ The devil you say !” And then passed out. 

Moultrie thought that, somewhere, he had seen that 
face before, but where, he could not remember. 

While he was trying to recall the time and place, 
Fatty Forbush and Gomez Ysleta entered, the 
former very much under the influence of Aguardiente , 
an insidious, Mexican brandy which the latter had 
obtained from old-time friends, unexpectedly met 
at a ranch in the neighborhood, and whom he had 
intimately known years before, when his father’s 


208 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


cattle range extended down the Rio Pecos to its 
mouth on the upper Rio Grande. 

One of Fatty’s late unfortunate weaknesses was 
his growing fondness for his toddy. 

On infrequent occasions he would gratify that lik- 
ing too much, and too long, and although he never 
became stupidly drunk, he would get what some 
people call “ mellow,” and keep that way for days. 

And often, when he did this, he became reckless 
and was easily induced to gamble, a thing he would 
never do in his sober moments. 

“ Aguardiente” is a treacherous beverage. 

It successfully searches out the remotest crannies 
and nooks in one’s senses, and insinuates itself into 
them, overpoweringly, completely upsetting self- 
control as no other intoxicant can. One drink of it 
begets a craving for another, more subtly, perhaps, 
than any other unfamiliar beverage, Russian vodka 
not excepted. 

Fatty was not aware of this fact, be it said in ex- 
tenuation, and therefore had imbibed it as freely as 
he would the familiar American whiskey, with whose 
influence and power he could intelligently cope. 

He had made a sad mistake in so doing, as was in- 
dicated when he entered the club-room, and he had 
made a worse mistake when he showed himself, in 
his semi-drunken condition, to Moultrie, who was so 
kindly and thoughtfully consummating plans to re- 
instate him in good fortune. 

Fatty did not realize this though, any more than 
he knew the difference between the insidious Mex- 
ican compound and good American liquor. 

He was just now in the “ mellow” mood several 
consecutive hours of indulgence had placed him, and 
joining the poker players, he fell in, unfortunately, 
with an officer he had met in New Mexico who had 
won from him, in various previous sittings, several 
hundred dollars. He was introduced by this officer 
to the other gentleman at the table, and entered the 
game, just the parties who had left the room, 


THE OFFICERS’ CLUB. 


209 

temporarily, burned and resumed their seats. He 
had sense enough left, in his semi-maudlin condition, 
to decline a drink and ask for a cigar, when urged 
to take something “socially.” 

Meanwhile Sefior Ysleta, also slightly intoxicated, 
after a few words of greeting with Moultrie, was 
visibly startled when the door opened and the officer, 
who had behaved so singularly on passing the latter, 
entered, and with a fierce look and step, stalked 
toward him. 

Involuntarily his hand flew for his pistol, in its 
holster, at his hip. 

The look and step, however, were from ugly 
thoughts, having no reference whatever to the 
Mexican, and the officer stalked past as if totally ob- 
livious of his presence. 

“ Who is he ?” asked Moultrie. “ I certainly have 
seen him somewhere.” 

“ It is El Capitaine Blondin,” was the answer. 

“ The gentleman to whom I was unpleasantly forced 
to pay my compliments at the canyon store when 
he struck you, in your own office, if you recollect.” 

Moultrie did recollect. 

Looking at his watch he saw it was long after mid- 
night and he wondered if it was the rule everywhere 
in garrisons to turn night into day and keep up a 
continuous round of nocturnal wassail. 

If so, it did not seem strange to him that, on their 
relatively liberal pay and allowances, army officers 
seldom saved up any money. He preferred, how- 
ever, not to suggest retiring to Mr. Olds, liking, 
rather, to remain to further learn by personal obser- 
vation, while the opportunity lasted, what sort of 
life his new business had really introduced him to, 
and what kind of duties he would impose on, as well 
as what temptations he would be compelled to sub- 
ject Fatty to, as his agent. Yet he did not care to 
encounter Blondin again. 

Of course he did not rashly conclude that the oc- 
currences of one night’s festivities could be a com- 


210 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


plete and correct index for all time, nor that he 
could infallibly judge of army life, in its entirety, 
from the various representative types presented in 
that single garrison. 

Moultrie was neither narrow-minded nor selfish, 
and he was, to a certain extent, justly accredited by 
these strangers, as has been stated in previous pages, 
with a reputation for great liberality. 

It is true, too, that he had amassed an Aladdin- 
like fortune in what appeared a marvelously brief 
period. 

All of his numerous speculations had been won- 
derfully successful. All he had touched “ had 
turned to gold.” 

He did not linger in the club-room, a looker-on, 
through any motive of mean espionage, but rather 
to survey, critically, the glimpses afforded him of the 
new and, to him, strange world he was a temporary 
denizen of, and to satisfy himself, as far as the op- 
portunity would permit, of what existed therein of 
moment to his own interests. 

It would be hard to analyze his feelings when he 
saw Fatty enter and go so promptly to the gaming- 
table to gamble with the very gentlemen he had, in 
several conversations, so condemned. 

He felt both annoyance and resentment. 

Somehow, he had all along given to Hercules and 
Fatty the bulk of credit for his escape from Quan- 
trell, and he believed that all of Professor Cheval’s 
kindness, all that good man’s unselfish efforts in his 
behalf would have ended in smoke had not they, 
with the college secret societies behind them, put in 
an opportune appearance on the railroad embank- 
ment the night he left Cedar Crest. 

And he felt very grateful in consequence, and was 
inclined to share with them all of the almost magical 
success that had come to him since. 

But, notwithstanding this, he could not make 
Fatty’s readiness to gamble with these gentlemen 
dovetail with his denunciation of them, How he 


THE OFFICERS’ CLUB. 


21 1 


could so dislike and also be convivial with them he 
could not understand. 

He had been quick, as remarked in preceding 
pages, to notice the simplicity and scrupulous clean- 
liness of the men, tents, buildings and grounds, in 
camp and garrison. The excellent care they took 
of their horses, the directness with which everything 
was done, and the prevailing air of combined blunt- 
ness, courtesy and straightforwardness. All these 
had won his respect. 

Many things he had observed critically, which he 
might have overlooked entirely, had it not been for 
Fatty’s adverse comment, and as a result, much 
against his inclination, he began to doubt Fatty 
himself. “ He talks through his hat !” he mentally 
ejaculated. 

Unfortunately, a blunder of Fatty’s precipitated 
Moultrie’s departure from the club-room, after en- 
tangling him as well as Hercules, seriously and 
lamentably in a drunken row. 

Very evident symptoms of fatigue, or too much 
imbibition, or both, was manifesting itself among the 
party at the card-table, when the officer, who had 
earlier in the evening stared so strangely at Moul- 
trie, turning in his chair to call for a cigar, again 
caught his eye. 

For a moment only the officer looked steadfastly, 
and then, with an insulting leer arose unsteadily to 
his feet and approached him. 

Fatty, who had observed this (all but the leer), 
with the usual officiousness of some semi-drunken 
men, arose at the same time, with the object of in- 
troducing the two. He was nearer to Moultrie than 
the officer, and with an affectionate gush, spluttered 
out, 

“ Major Blondin, let me introduce you to my dear 
old friend and school-chum, Mr. DeKalb.” 

He would have added more as he threw his arm 
around Moultrie, but, with a lofty sweep of his hand 


212 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


and a supercilious toss of his head, the officer said, 
haughtily : 

“ I don’t want to know him, sir! He is only a 
shopkeeper, and that is all I want to know of him.” 
Whereupon, before anyone could interfere, before 
anyone had even imagined what he had arisen from 
his seat for, he pulled Moultrie’s nose until it bled. 

Moultrie, on his part, quick as a flash, with his 
clenched fist planted a retaliatory blow square on 
the offender’s mouth, dislocating his knuckles in the 
act, and knocking out two of Blondin’s teeth. 

The major staggered against the billiard table 
from its effects, and then, with a terrible oath, rallied 
and sprang like an infuriated tiger toward Moultrie, 
whose eyes were blazing with indignation, as he 
awaited his onset. 

This, fortunately, was intercepted by Hercules, 
who grasped the officer about the waist in his pow- 
erful arms, and laid him, helpless as a struggling in- 
fant, prone upon the billiard table. 

We will draw the curtain on this disgraceful 
scene. 

At a few minutes before nine o’clock the next 
morning Moultrie presented himself at his friend’s 
cottage, and was glad to see Hercules looking so 
fresh and feeling so easy, after this first eventful 
night of his introduction to life at a frontier fort. 

Producing a decanter of whiskey, the host invited 
his visitor to take an “ eye-opener ” before breakfast, 
which Moultrie politely declined. 

This however did not deter Hercules from doing 
so, as he spoke the usual military toast, 

“ HOW ! ” Which is the Indian word for “ Your 
health — ” 

And emptied his glass. 

A troubled expression flitted over the beautiful 
face of his wife, as he did it. 

Not a word was spoken by either Moultrie or 
Hercules of the club-room occurrence of the pre- 
vious night, and breakfast passed pleasantly, with 


THE OFFICERS’ CLUB. 


213 


bright sallies from the gentlemen, and charming piq- 
uant railleries from the hostess, during a running 
cross-fire of questions, comments and answers in ref- 
erence to what had happened to each, and to their 
mutual friends, since they left college. 

Just before sitting down to the table, Hercules 
again invited his guest to have a glass, but Moultrie 
again politely but firmly declined. 

“ Well I don’t see but what I will have to drink 
for you then,” 

Was the cheery protestation, and again the host 
emptied his glass, as his wife, in a half imploring, 
half indignant tone, exclaimed, with a sudden flash 
of her speaking eyes, 

“ I don’t know why you need do double duty, es- 
pecially of that kind !” 

Hercules merely answered with a smile, as much 
as to say, 

“ Oh, it’s all right; there is no harm done.” 

Momentary as was that flash from those eyes, be- 
fore so tender, it did not escape Moultrie, and it was 
like revealing a new page or character, until now 
sealed and unsuspected, but distressingly painful. 
It gave the face an almost demoniac expression. 

The sweet smile that pouted the pliant lips with 
lightning-like transition, an instant afterward, as well 
as the serenity, forced and unreal, that immediately 
settled on the whole face, in prompt response to her 
husband’s beaming look, did not banish the impres- 
sion that that momentary, sudden, fierce light in her 
eyes had made on Moultrie’s mind, and he now no- 
ticed that there was a rigor about the mouth that 
he had not before observed. 

It suggested disagreeable possibilities, if not actual 
but latent tendencies he had not dreamed of till then, 
and he asked himself, 

“ Is she only a beautiful and deceptive tigress, 
after all ?” He saw that all soft outlines were forced. 
That she was calculating and selfish. 

This lovely being had filled his dreams the night 


214 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


before, and he had felt glad for Hercules, in his rare 
good fortune in securing, as a partner for life, one so 
gentle, beautiful and lovable, and he had said to 
himself that the great architect of the universe had 
evolved one of his finest masterpieces, in the union 
of these two hearts, for out of the stalwart husband 
and radiantly lovely wife, he had joined those two 
keystone features of perfection in social architecture, 
beauty and strength. 

“Now,” he wondered, “was the foundation on 
sand ?” 

Would she win his grand friend by kindness and 
devotion, and make him the superb man he was ca- 
pable of becoming, or would she, by nagging and im- 
patience and the too frequent showing of her claws, 
drive him to desperation and ruin ? Would she be 
what that flash seemed to foretell?” 

Quien sabe ? 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THAT MODEL TRAVELING CARRIAGE. 

Time rolled on, and days passed into weeks, be- 
fore Moultrie found himself able to return to the 
canyon. 

Meanwhile his mail was forwarded to him by a 
circuitous route, and his heart palpitated with undis- 
guised pleasure as he read Mrs. Poinsett’s “ slip,” 
enclosed in Bertha's letter, in which she consented 
to take charge of the hotel at the mines. 

He caught himself wondering if Bertha had 
changed much, and in imagination he felt the pres- 
sure of her little hand in his again. 

Now that Mrs. Poinsett would come, he thought, 
among other things, that it behooved him to 
prepare for her comfortable transit across the plains. 


THAT MODEL TRAVELING CARRIAGE. 21 $ 

He was something of a draughtsman, and that very- 
evening set to work on designs for a model traveling 
carriage that would be a modern bed-chamber and 
breakfast room, with all their needed appointments 
complete, as well as a most comfortable and cosy 
vehicle withal. 

He didn’t let the grass grow under his feet, but, 
as soon as the plans and specifications were finished, 
he sent them by mail to a famous St. Louis builder 
of army carriages, and besides a copy retained for 
himself, sent one to Mrs. Poinsett, with a long, ex- 
planatory letter that entered minutely into a descrip- 
tion of every detail of it, and the object and reasons 
therefor, and contained as well, numerous timely 
suggestions regarding her preparations for the trip. 

He also informed her that he would meet the 
overland wagon train, which she would take after 
leaving the cars at the railroad terminus, a couple of 
days before it would start for the mines. 

He would have occasion to do this, he said, as the 
freighters would have a large and valuable invoice 
of his goods in their charge, about the careful load- 
ing of which he was very anxious. 

The box of the carriage he had designed was to 
be, in build and dimensions, something like a Dough- 
erty spring wagon, but considerably lighter, some- 
what longer, and of the very best material as to 
strength, elasticity and toughness. The running 
gear was to be of the most superior quality, regard- 
less of cost, and the trimmings and upholstery both 
expensive and durable. 

The strong, soft curtains were to be lined with 
morocco leather pockets, some deep, others shallow, 
conveniently arranged for small articles, and narrow, 
thick panels, inset with strips of very heavy plate- 
glass mirror, “ impossible to break,” he wrote, were 
to serve as door posts on either side for the carriage 
doors. 

The backs of the seats were to be secured to the 
seat-beds by stout hinges, and another section in 


21 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


front, that hung down like a flap or valance, was to 
be attached, in like manner, to both seats. 

The two seats, facing each other, when arranged 
for travel, would be held in place by small, sliding 
bolts under them, on either side, and could be moved, 
when these bolts were drawn, toward each other far 
enough to allow the backs to fall down to a horizon- 
tal. The flaps could then be raised to a similar po- 
sition, filling in the intervening space, and be ad- 
justed, by means of ingeniously contrived props, 
whereupon a most inviting and luxurious mattress 
would be formed, the whole length of the inside of 
the carriage, as both seats, seat-backs and flaps 
were to be stuffed with the best of mattress hair. 

The floor was to be carpeted with thick Turkey 
or Persian carpet, laid over a heavy waterproof lin- 
ing, and an ample supply of velvet carriage rugs had 
been ordered. 

Over the driver’s seat — which was to be outside 
and forward, separated by an adjustable curtain — 
there was to be an adjustable awning. 

Other blue and green striped awnings were pro- 
vided for either side of the carriage, to be detachable, 
and put in place by means of iron rods run through 
thick, wire eyes on top of the carriage, and addition- 
ally supported by detachable arms at the sides. 

These would form a delightful canopy, shutting 
out the sun on either side, when the curtains were 
raised, and on pleasant days would enhance the 
luxury of carriage travel across the plains. 

Under both the seatswere to be compartments in- 
to which pillows, sheets and toilet articles could be 
stowed, and under the driver’s seat there was to be 
carried a block tin wash-bowl, soap-box and small 
papier-mache water-bucket. 

On top of the carriage was to be a thin hickory 
panel, braced by stout cross-pieces, and supplied 
with brass eyes, inset at each corner, which could be 
taken down and adjusted to small detachable hooks 


THAT MODEL TRAVELING CARRIAGE. 21? 

On either side, at the doorway, inside, to be used as 
a washstand. 

Everything, indeed, to make the vehicle a com- 
plete ladies’ boudoir on wheels was in Moultrie’s 
elaborate plan. 

By means of hooks, at the four, top corners, another 
panel, just the length and width of the space be-; 
tween the doors, was to be secured inside the car* 
riage, between the seats and overhead, which in its 
turn could be detached and placed in position, lower 
down, when needed, forming a cozy little dining 
table, with the seats on either side. 

Breakfast and dinner spreads made to order and 
of proper size, with napkins to match, were to be 
carried in the mess-chest, with the dishes on the 
trunk-rack in rear, or, with groceries, etc., in the 
lightly loaded freight and commissary wagon that 
was to always, on the march, accompany this luxu- 
riously appointed traveling van. The trunk-rack 
was to be fitted with a staunch, water-proof, laven- 
der-colored cover, that would not draw the sun’s heat, 
and would be impervious to the wildest rain storm. 

Having dispatched all his correspondence refer- 
ring to this wonderful vehicle, interlarding all the 
hints he could think of, as to preparations for their 
trip across the plains, Moultrie gave redoubled at- 
tention to the problem presented in his new post- 
tradership venture. 

He took frequent horseback rides, and had long 
conferences with Mr. Olds, Fatty and Ysleta. 

It would be a good idea, he believed, to have an 
extensive ranch near by, since the natural advan- 
tages were most excellent and the different markets, 
the old ones already secured, and new ones, in pros- 
pect, which he must open up, lay on divergent lines. 

The scanty knowledge among eastern capitalists, 
of the exhaustless resources of the country, in this 
direction, and the realization that he was well fixed 
to the fore with ample means, and opportunity 


2 18 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


thoroughly in hand, to control those resources, was 
also matter of much gratification to him. 

Furthermore, it was never the case, he had ascer- 
tained, that the Indians were simultaneously on the 
war path in all sections, and as a consequence some 
avenues would be always open. And to establish 
the base for new ones, at this point, would, he 
thought, be the part of wisdom. 

These considerations were powerful in forcing 
into the background the minor scruples that had 
troubled him relative to his military post traderships. 

As far as possible he would remedy what he found 
wrong, in that direction, he said to himself, but that 
undertaking would be of minor importance, and the 
position would give him advantages in the other 
ventures, which he could not, and must not ignore. 

Therefore he concluded he would not only stay, 
but would make as big a thing out of staying as 
possible. 

He therefore resolved to make the post-trader's 
store a big supply depot in every particular, for that 
section of country, and to this end he at once busied 
himself with Mr. Olds, making up extensive orders 
for goods, or occupied himself scouring the adjacent 
county with Sefior Ysleta, to learn, by personal ob- 
servation, all he could of its resources and availa- 
bility. 

Meanwhile he had excellent opportunities for 
studying more fully the peculiarities of that isolated 
community, and the subject grew very fascinating 
to him. 

One thing especially attracted his notice, and that 
was the all-absorbing topic of prospective promo- 
tion, especially among the younger officers. 

To enter on their army registers the deaths, dis- 
missals and retirements, occurring from time to time, 
seemed to be of more importance to some than the 
well-being of the commands under their charge. 

It was their monotonous and never ending theme. 

And several of them kept their registers carefully 


AN ABORTIVE PICNIC. 


219 


marked with the names of those likely to be retired 
soon— either because of long service, old age or — 
The Devil. No Wall Street broker ever watched the 
fluctuations of stocks more closely than they 
watched and revised this data. 

When news was received of death, or of disaster 
to some older officer, involving the loss of his com- 
mission, condolence for the afflicted family seemed 
of last and least consideration, and who had by the 
calamity, “ gone up a peg,” of first and greatest im- 
portance to know. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

AN ABORTIVE PICNIC. 

On a certain sunlit morning orders were received 
from the War Department proclaiming a holiday in 
commemoration of a great event, and directing its 
observance. And a national salute with artillery 
was ordered. 

Not far from the fort, a large stream meandered 
through a wide stretch of undulating prairie, treeless, 
and carpeted with a growth of tall sedge-grass, for 
miles upon miles. Along its banks was a scant 
fringe of seedy-looking cotton-wood trees, and the 
muddy water was populous with innumerable 
suckers, bullheads, cat and other varieties of the 
more common species of fish. 

Thither a sorosis of the married ladies of the gar- 
rison secretly resolved they would inveigle their 
lords and husbands at an early hour ; for a holiday, 
they well knew, meant with those lords aforesaid 
not so much an interim of rest as a period more or 
less of devoted, protracted and persistent observance 
at the shrine of Bacchus. 


220 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


The prospects for this sylvan picnic seemed de 
cidedly propitious. 

There were several private carriages and army 
ambulances at the post (Moultrie’s elegant van was 
counted in, as a matter of course), and cavalry horses 
in plenty for those who preferred to ride on horse- 
back. 

Mrs. Swimm, wife of the commanding officer, with 
petite Mrs. Gabbler as a sort of adjutant, assumed 

command. And Mrs. G , without consulting 

anyone but her self-constituted chief, proceeded 
with dispatch to assign the occupants of the several 
carriages that were to be used in the fete. 

“ There must be some head,” 

Mrs. G had said. She herself was really 

chief engineer, with Mrs. S as dummy figure- 

head. 

“ And who is better than the Colonel’s wife ?” 

Whereupon everyone — all the ladies — had re- 
sponded, “ Of course !” How dare they do other- 
wise ? 

And as the little woman flew around, perfecting 

arrangements on the carte blanche of Mrs. S , 

Mrs. Durant said : 

“ Oh, m-y !” in a drawling tone. 

“ She reminds me-ah of a little t-u-g-boat, ah, she- 
ah flies a-b-o-u-t s-o-o lively, don’t you know. I think I 
shall nev-ah forget the weally delightful way a de-ah 
little tug, in Chicago river, once seized the wopes, 
great big wopes they were too, of big ships, and then 
pulled awah at the ships, until it got them out into 
the lake.” 

“Just yanked them out, away out of sight, at 
short notice !” suggested Gaunt, with a guying man- 
ner, that caused Mrs. Durant to subside instantly. 
“ Hawwible wech!” sub-voce. 

Moultrie had been invited to join the party, and 
had been asked to contribute his carriage, but no in- 
timation had been conveyed to him that Mrs. Gab- 
bler, in her masterful fashion, had already assigned 


AN ABORTIVE PtCNICl* 


221 

it, without consulting him, to certain parties she had 
selected, and had provided a seat for himself in her 
own ambulance. 

Circumstances, too, conspired to keep him in igno- 
rance of this fact up to the very last moment. 

Mrs. G had sent to the store later on to inform 

him of his billet with her, but he was out on the 
prairie somewhere, with Mr. Olds, Lieutenant Her- 
cules and Sefior Ysleta, when the messenger reached 
there. 

“Tell your wife," Moultrie had said to Hercules, 
as they dismounted from their horses, at Mrs. Olds’ 
door, after their return, about eight o’clock the same 
evening, 

“ That I will esteem it a favor if she will take my 
carriage for to-morrow, and invite whom she wishes 
to ride with her. I, myself, will drive and my ser- 
vant will go on horseback, to look after the team at 
the rendezvous.” 

Shortly after this they all sat down to a late but 
bountiful dinner, and did not separate until half- 
past eleven o’clock. At that hour no one in the fort 
was moving save the sentries. 

Hercules proceeded directly to his quarters, but, 
as luck would have it, being in a pensive mood, for- 
got to communicate his message from Moultrie to 
his wife until after they had retired. 

She was greatly pleased at the thoughtful kind- 
ness, but somewhat worried, because the acknowl- 
edged master of ceremonies, Mrs. Gabbler, had noti- 
fied her of a different assignment. 

In consequence she questioned the propriety of 
accepting her friend’s offer. 

“Confound Mrs. Gabbler, she don’t own you, that 
I am aware of ! She is altogether too officious, she 
can go to thunder!” 

Hercules replied hotly. 

“ I’ll bet fifty dollars she has arranged to monopo- 
lize Moultrie, and take him into her own carriage, 
with one of the young ladies — Miss Swimm, no 


222 


MOULTRIE t)E KALB* 


doubt ! and Moultrie won’t have it. He’ll drive his 
own team.” 

“Who shall you have ride with you ? ” he asked 
the next morning at breakfast, quietly. 

Mrs. Hercules pondered a few moments and then 
mentioned Miss Leclerque and two other ladies 
whose husbands were infantry lieutenants and, there- 
fore, without vehicles and not entitled to keep horses. 

Hercules donned his cape and forage cap and 
called on them at once, and found they were de- 
lighted with the change he so auspiciously proposed, 
from the hospital ambulance, to which the little lady 
of whom Mrs. Durant said a steam tug-boat was the 
prototype, had assigned them. They were profuse 
in their thanks and in their enconiums of his lovely 
wife. 

Great, however, was the consternation of that 
petite and busy, ubiquitous Mrs. Gabbler, when she 
found her plans had been so unexpectedly and sig- 
nally defeated, and immense the satisfaction of Her- 
cules, when he heard her protesting to Moultrie, in 
his wife’s presence, that “she had selected him as 
her guest and had provided a seat for him beside the 
adorable Miss Swimm.” 

Moultrie politely thanked her but did not budge. 
He was master of his own equipage, and felt he had 
a right to order it as he was disposed. 

Mrs. Ponsonbys and Mrs. Durant declined, at first, 
to go at all, so sorely were they disappointed in not 
occupying the best carriage in the garrison, for 
Moultrie’s was such. And Mrs. Gabbler had as- 
signed those ladies the best seats in it. They were 
finally accommodated, however, one riding with 
Mrs. Swimm, and the other in the vacant seat that 
had been intended for Moultrie, beside Miss Swimm, 
in Mrs. Gabbler’s carriage. It had been arranged 
that the party should start at five o’clock, but it 
really did not get off until after six. 

Hercules rode a beautiful and powerful dappled 
gray charger, over sixteen hands high. 


AN ABORTIVE PICNIC. 


223 


Fatty Forbush reposed his ample breadth on the 
forward seat beside Moultrie. 

A lovelier early morn could not have been desired. 

Aurora’s rosy fingers had opened its glittering 
gates showering the fort, the fields and the old In- 
dian trails and sylvan depths with myriads of joyous, 
dancing sunbeams. 

All nature, in fact, had awakened with gladness. 

The sweet odor of new cut hay and countless wild 
flowers at dawn, freighted the clear atmosphere. 

Dewdrops, innumerable, sparkled on grass and 
foliage, looking like numberless diamonds. 

The meadow-lark, the robin and the little brown 
thrush caroled their melodious matins, and wolves 
and wild-cats, crest-fallen, slunk away to their lairs, 
as if afraid, or ashamed to face the opening eye of 
The God of Day. And how imperial he looked, 
rising from his dazzling, golden couch in the horizon 
of the Orient. 

And the fresh morning air was so delightful and 
bracing. It put new life into everyone of the party. 
And all, save perhaps, the disgruntled ones, who 
had been so sorely disappointed, were in the gayest 
of spirits. 

Fatty’s bright sallies kept everyone in a roar. 
And sparkling retort and repartee was the order 
when they started out so joyously. But their return 
was not happy. “ It was a horse of another color,” 
Fatty ventured to remark, sotto voce. 

At the appointed rendezvous the horses were 
lariated out on the wild prairie grass, the fishing 
tackle put in trim, and the anticipated pleasure of 
the day begun. A generous hamper, and cigars 
from Major Rigby, Moultrie and Hercules, were sup- 
plied to the guard of troopers that had come with 
the jolly picnickers. Indians were liable to drop in 
suddenly at any time on any unprotected party. 
Hence the presence of this guard. Fortunately no 
Indians appeared to disturb their well-planned pleas- 
ure. But alas ! other unforeseen, exasperating 


224 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


events, or incidents probably, they should be called, 
did. 

Hours rolled by, and the fish, obstinate, sleepy, 
suspicious, wary, or by some other means to their 
full desire fed, refused to “ bite.” Meanwhile the 
pocket flasks, privately, secretively brought, were 
“ slyly discussed,” and then the ladies’ lunch baskets 
were clandestinely raided, and ruthlessly, heartlessly 
robbed of their most succulent and tempting morsels. 

The alarming extent of the forays, however, and 
the woful, dismal wreck that resulted, none of the 
dear ladies were aware or suspicious of. 

That their husbands had “ foraged,” to the extent 
of a sandwich or two, to relieve a feeling of goneness, 
or faintness, was the utmost any of them suspected. 

Judge then of the towering indignation, and the 
hearty disgust, when they beheld the real, awful and 
deplorable wreck and ruin that had really been 
wrought ! 

“ Oh dear ! my jelly is all gone !” And ” 

“ What a shame ! There is not a crumb of my 
orange cake left !” Exclaimed one victim. 

And numerous other lamentations filled the air, 
and multiplied, as the first discoverer of these grace- 
less inroads was reinforced by other bankrupts in 
the same line. 

“ It is just heartless, and too mean for anything,” 
said another. 

“ Unprincipled !” exclaimed still another. 

“Too contemptible and just too terrible!” 
chimed in a fourth. And, as they all in turn dis- 
covered their loss, they glared around, looking to 
wreak their vengeance on their husbands, and, at last, 
saw the guilty culprits, down stream, on the river 
bank, skulking behind trees and unfeelingly laugh- 
ing at them, from a safe distance. “ The unfeeling 
wretches!” cried Mrs. Swimm. 

And everyone echoed, “The unfeeling wretches !” 

“ Guard Mounting ” took place, in the garrison, 
regularly, every morning, at nine o’clock, 


AN ABORTIVE PICNIC. 


225 


Underneath the pompous marching, fine music 
and spectacular features that characterized it, there 
was, relatively, about the same amount of utility in 
the ceremonial one finds buried below the red tape, 
that hides the really excellent business methods of 
the several bureaux, of the government executive 
departments. 

Stripped of its spectacular features it is a wise and 
needful preliminary inspection of prospective sen- 
tinels, and, as a spectacle, very pretty. 

At a given signal, squads, detailed to do guard 
duty for the next twenty-four hours, march to the 
cadence of the music by the band, to a previously 
designated rendezvous, on the parade ground, the 
flanks of which are designated by two small flags 
called markers. 

Here they are carefully inspected, in a very formal 
and pretty manner, one by one, by an officer, an 
adjutant or commander of the guard, to see if the 
right number has reported from each company, and 
also to ascertain if their arms and accoutrements 
are in good order, and the requisite amount of am- 
munition carefully housed in their cartridge boxes. 
Perfect cleanliness of person and clothing is also 
exacted. 

The ladies among our early picnickers were suffi- 
ciently disgusted because the fish would not bite. 
But when they discovered the demoralization of 
their elegant lunches, they were, as stated, completely 
beside themselves. 

“ Oh dear ! let’s go home !” said Mrs. Ponsonbys, 
almost ready to cry. That was just what their hus- 
bands wanted to do. 

“ That I will, at once !” Mrs. Swiimm answered, 
red in the face with rage. And she kept her word. 

Of course, everyone else followed. 

And just as the music was sweetly playing, “ The 
Girl I Left Behind Me,” and the soldiers were march- 
ing to Guard-Mounting, the carriages drove into the 
garrison, bringing back the party that had started 


226 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


out so joyously three hours earlier, to be gone all day. 
“ Guard-mounting” was breakfast hour for officers. 

“ Heigho ! Man’s better half proposes but some- 
times the lunch fiend disposes,” 

Said Hercules, with a smile, as he kissed his pretty 
wife on reaching home, and promised not to take a 
single drink that day. And he kept his promise. 

Notwithstanding the pleasant drives, the periodi- 
cal and frequent afternoon concerts from the stand 
erected for the band in the centre of the parade 
ground, and the occasional hops and almost daily 
croquet parties, the time passed at that Indian, fron- 
tier military post would .have been exceedingly 
tedious for Moultrie had he been as idle, by half, as 
the officers. 

Of course he was bouyed up, every now and then, 
whenever he had a chance to take a little peek, on 
the sly, at the photo he had, “ with his fifteen dollars 
in his inside pocket.” His photo of Bertha. That 
was Bertha’s scandalously favorite song. So he al- 
ways sang it whenever he looked at that same photo. 

Notwithstanding the failure and the general bad 
feeling incident to this picnic event among the 
others, Moultrie extracted from it, for himself, some 
considerable real pleasure, and became so much bet- 
ter acquainted with some of the ladies of the garrison 
that his opinion of army people was favorably modified. 

One afternoon, several days previous, he had re- 
turned saturated, after a severe rain-storm, from a 
prospecting trip to Antelope Springs, and had dis- 
mounted at the most remote corner of the Fort. 

The weather had cleared ; the sun was shining, 
and his clothes were steaming. 

Passing down the four feet wide walk in front of 
the officers’ quarters, he met three unknown ladies, 
followed by a lieutenant, who did not recognize him 
in his storm suit, and he was forced to step off the 
walk into the mud, to let them pass, or be rude. 

He wondered if they treated all people who did 
not happen to be well dressed in that manner. 


AN ABORTIVE PICNIC. 


227 


At the picnic he was seated on some wraps on the 
grass, in a group with Mrs. Hercules, Miss Swimm, 
Miss Leclerque and a handsome young infantry of- 
ficer, chatting gaily when Mrs. Gabbler came up. 

“Now this is what I call nice,” she said; “ I wish 
I could take a sketch of you all, just as you are 
seated. 

“ It would make an interesting picture, and a sug- 
: gestive one too. 

I “ I don’t quite know whether Mr. De Kalb looks as 
though he was planning a runaway match with Mrs. 
Hercules or has been pouring soft nonsense into 
Miss Swimm ’s ear. But there is no mistaking the 
telegraphic glances of Lieutenant Blank and Miss 
Leclerque. 

“You’re looking too utterly utter to deceive any- 
one, Lieutenant ; I do wish I could paint your look 
on canvas. Why ain’t I an artist?” 

“ Because your education was neglected,” returned 
the lieutenant, dryly. 

“You are an artist, in word painting, my dear,” 
s aid Mrs. Hercules, very sweetly. 

“ Am I, though ? Oh thanks ! But you’ve be- 
witched Mr. De Kalb, that’s plain to see. I don’t 
believe Miss Swimm has a ghost of a show. Have 
you, Miss Swimm ?” 

And Miss Swimm blushed, as nearly as was pos- 
sible for her. 

“We’ll have to get Lieutenant Hercules to lock 
up his pretty wife, if this thing continues,” and Mrs. 
Hercules kindly advised Mrs. Gabbler to get some- 
one to take her down-stream a little way, and shoot 
her or drown her. 

“ No,” said Lieutenant Blank, 

“ Better get her to hire a hall, a cheap one will do, 
and invite us all to go and see her hang herself.” 

“ Let me alone for hanging myself,” returned Mrs. 

G . 


Meanwhile, please don’t use my best shawl fora 


228 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


footstool, under the mistaken idea that it belongs to 
the future Mrs. Blank.” 

“I use my dogs for footstools, sometimes,” re- 
plied the lieutenant, a little too acidly to be pleasant. 
He didn’t like the G s. 

“ ‘ Therefore, the future Mrs. Blank’s shawl, and 
the future Mrs. Blank herself, should take warning,’ 
you ought to add,” and she looked straight at Miss 
Leclerque, who blushed beautifully and evidently 
saw something very interesting in the grass at her 
feet. 

“ I think you’re perfectly awful !” ventured Miss 
Swimm, timidly, with a slight lisp, trying to look 
very brave. 

“ Do you think so, Mr. Moultrie ?” queried the 
little woman. 

“ Oh, yes — perfectly awful nice,” he answered, 
diplomatically. 

“ Well, I’ll have to leave you people, I see,” she 
replied, with a bright, satisfied smile. 

“You are just utterly incorrigible, and too much 
too-too for anything.” Then, as a parting shot, 
turning to Miss Leclerque, 

“Shall I send the chaplain, dear?” 

“For what?” asked Miss Leclerque, quite inno- 
cently. 

“Why, to pray for you, of course, you little 
stupid,” replied Mrs. Gabbler, tripping off with a 
merry laugh. 

“ My husband says that wives are tyrants,” said 
Mrs. Hercules, with a wretchedly feigned attempt 
to be jocular. “That they must know and reign 
over their husbands’ innernmost thoughts, have full 
accounts of their dreams, know how many steps they 
take to cross the parade ground, and dictate to them 
when they shall sneeze, and when they shall laugh, 
or be miserable.” 

“ And what do you say ?” whispered Moultrie. 

4 ‘ Oh, I have nothing whatever to say,” with a sickly 
smile. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 


229 


Somehow no one laughed, but on the contrary, 
everyone felt depressed after this, and Mrs. Her- 
cules rose and went for her lunch basket. 

Fatty Forbush, just coming up, was sent in search 
of Hercules. 

It was at this juncture that the robbery of the 
hampers was discovered. 

That of Mrs. Hercules had not been disturbed. 

During the discussion of the good things con- 
tained in her handsome and capacious basket, the 
party was joined by the two infantry ladies who had 
ridden in Moultrie’s carriage as the guests of Mrs. 
Hercules, and whose husbands were away at an 
outpost camp, and Moultrie declared to Mrs. Olds 
that he was charmed with them. And she replied, 

“ Certainly, you ought to be. They mind their 
own business.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE BACHELOR OFFICERS’ HOP; THE INDIAN 
RAID ; MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 

ONE evening, shortly after the incidents just narrated 
there was sudden, unusual excitement in the garri- 
son because of the near approach of a party of dar- 
ing, hostile Indians. 

It was over two years since any of them had 
been so bold. 

A cordon of outlying camps had kept them away. 

Moultrie had completed his business there, and 
had only three days before sent Sefior Ysleta with 
his carriage, by way of Centipede Canyon, to the 
railroad terminus to join the wagon-train, under 
escort of which the ladies would proceed to their 
new Colorado home. 

Forbush had been duly installed as his agent at 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


23O 

the fort, had taken up his billet with the Olds 
family, and was liked very much by them, as well as 
by everyone. He had grown quite politic of late, 
and kept his mouth shut. 

Moultrie had chartered the overland stage several 
days in advance, proposing to monopolize it, take nu- 
merous buffalo robes for bedding, and make a quick 
trip to the nearest railroad station south, as cosily as 
possible, traveling day and night continuously for 
over one hundred hours. Then by a wide detour 
by cars he could speedily reach Mrs. Poinsett and 
Bertha at the end of the track on the railroad further 
north, before they would transfer to carriage travel. 

No lark was up earlier of mornings than he, dur- 
ing these days of preparation for his long trip, and 
no one more blithesome and light-hearted. 

He calculated that he would reach his objective 
point three or four days ahead of time, and would 
find his own outfit, with Seflor Ysleta in waiting, 
already there. 

The programme had been, at last, very materially 
changed from that proposed by Mrs. Poinsett, and 
on arrival at the railroad terminus, Bertha was to be- 
come Mrs. Moultrie De Kalb, if a parson could be 
found to tie the knot. 

And the bridegroom — prospective — had taken 
great care to provide for that most important con- 
tingency. 

Her mother’s property had been put into the 
hands of a reliable agent in St. Louis, recommended 
by Moultrie, and she was coming on to take charge 
of the hotel for her daughter, to whom Moultrie 
would deed it, among other bridal gifts. 

On the evening before he was to start from the 
fort to carry out these pleasant plans, a couple of 
jolly bachelor officers, in his honor, threw open the 
cottage they jointly occupied, and gave a hop. 

And such a cottage ! It was a gem of a bachelors’ 
den. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 23 1 

The ladies had all along been perfectly wild to 
explore it. 

And the liege lords and masters of the married 
ones had told their wives fabulous tales of its en- 
chanting interior. 

The zither, mandolin, guitar, and banjo were fre- 
quently overheard issuing from it, in accompani- 
ment to manly voices, in solos and choruses. 

Trophies from Indian camps, that had been sur- 
prised and raided, as well as trophies of the chase, 
photographs of beautiful women and distinguished 
men, souvenirs of spoons, and “ favors ” from num- 
erous hops, cartoons, both witty and sarcastic, mili- 
tary trappings and implements of the hunt, prints of 
battle and fishing scenes. All these, and many other 
things, in unarranged miscellany, crowded the walls 
profusely, and made one think of the abode of the 
knights of medieval ages, remodeled and lavishly 
embellished with “all modern improvements.” 

A generous sideboard lent an especial fascination 
to this delightfully appointed “ Bachelors’ den,” to 
those who had the good fortune to have.entr6e. 

And oh ! How the ladies, precious dears! 

Did dote on Moultrie when he, Aladdin-like, 
through the medium of this farewell hop, was about 
to pfive them the.“ open sesame ” to that wonderful 
“ den.” 

All they had seen of it, through the thick lattice 
work of flowering vines, was what was visible on the 
front and rear porch, and the “ Baby Buffalo ” in 
the side yard. 

A round table, wolf and puma rugs, Mexican 
grass hammocks, newspapers and novels, recklessly 
scattered about, flag-bottomed, extension easy chairs 
and long Turkish pipes, with dantily embroidered 
tobacco pouches and smoking caps — only these 
things had been revealed to them. 

But yes! Two more objects of interest they had 
discovered, or rather encountered, whenever any, 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


232 

animated by a spirit of Paul Pryism, had sought to 
penetrate its innermost recesses. 

And they were a vigilant “ dog-robber,” who stood 
in the way of their progress as sturdily as the rock 
of Gibraltar, and a fierce, half-bull, half-wolf dog. 

“ I’m just going to see the inside of those quar- 
ters !” declared Mrs. Gabbler. 

And Mrs. Durant rolled her eyes heavenward and 
ejaculated, 

“ Y-a-a-s ! If you can, you mean, of course, to be 
s-u-a-h.” Now imagine a genuine “rural ” trying a 
metropolitan society-McAllister-four-hundred-utter- 
ance of that monosyllable, “Yes.” 

But Mrs. G . did not get there. 

The hop was at its height ; and was the most en- 
joyable one Moultrie had ever at anytime attended. 

Suddenly, an orderly entered the ball-room, in an 
excited manner, and, after formally saluting, said 
something to the commanding officer that caused 
him to hurriedly make his exit. 

The married ladies gathered around the orderly, 
asking a dozen questions at once, and the quadrille, 
then in progress, was virtually broken up, although 
the music went on, and the younger people tried 
desperately to keep the dance going. 

The soldier stood like a statue, before the volleys 
of queries fired at him, but uttered not a word, and 
was forced, before the importunate ladies had cor- 
nered him into an explanation, to hurry to the door 
in response to the sharp, quick, imperative summons : 

“ Orderly!" 

Uttered, commandingly, by Colonel Swimm. 

While this unusual occurrence was being discussed, 
with bated breath, the colonel was on his way to his 
office, whither his adjutant, Lieutenant Gabbler, a 
long, thindimbed, middle-aged man, with a rolling 
walk, much like an old tar, had preceded him. 

Arriving there, he discerned, by the rays of the 
full moon, just risen, two citizens, frontier rangers, 
in their shirt sleeves. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 


233 


One of them had his right arm in a sling, and was 
standing beside a chair, in which the other, a hand- 
some young fellow, wearing a Mexican sombrero, 
sat, with a face as pale as death, and his buckskin 
shirt bosom saturated with blood. 

The sergeant of the guard was with them, and 
said that they had ridden rapidly up to the sentinel, 
on the north face of the garrison, and had reported 
that they had escaped from a gulch, about twenty- 
five miles off, where a dozen or more citizens were 
hemmed in by an Indian war party, who had stolen 
some horses from a cattle ranch, about sixty miles 
up the country, and whose trail they were following 
when ambushed and “cut to pieces.” 

The colonel forthwith despatched his orderly, with 
instructions to his three remaining lieutenants of 
cavalry in the garrison, to report to him in person at 
his office at once. 

He then directed the sergeant of the guard to 
conduct the wounded citizens to the hospital, and 
ask the doctor to dress their wounds, sending their 
horses meanwhile to the quartermaster’s corral. 

The musician of the guard was ordered at the 
same time to sound the sometimes alarming, and 
always spirited cavalry call, 

“ Boots and Saddles /” 

And the sleepy troopers were forthwith aroused 
and marched in “ double time,” fully armed and 
equipped, from their barracks to the stables, to lead 
out and saddle their horses. 

By this time the purport of the news, greatly ex- 
aggerated, as usual, had reached the ballroom, and 
wild consternation prevailed. 

“ Over five hundred Indians ! 

“ Hovering, like so many mamelukes, or ravenous 
wild beasts, on the very outskirts of the garrison !” 

Was the bold statement passed about from mouth 
to mouth, enlivened and embellished by sensational 
comments, characteristic of the differing dispositions 
of the different persons it reached. 


234 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


The entire force in the fort for duty numbered 
less than one hundred men, forty-five of whom were 
detachments from the cavalry companies, at the 
camp heretofore described, who had been left be- 
hind to take charge of sick and surplus horses and 
other public property. The remainder of the troops 
were infantry soldiers belonging to companies en- 
gaged in building a military road about fifty miles 
south. 

There was a general court martial in session at 
the time at the garrison, and Hercules, being a 
member of it, was the only reason for his presence 
there. 

He would have much preferred to have been at 
the front with his company. 

Beaustrum was his first lieutenant. 

The order from department headquarters, how- 
ever, that convened the court in question, had de- 
tained him in garrison in spite of his wishes. 

In an emergency such as the present one, Col- 
onel Swimm was authorized to order Hercules, at 
the head .of his detachment, to take the field, and, 
if the court martial was thereby left without a 
quorum, all it could do would be to adjourn from 
day to day until his return, or adjourn sine die. 

Moultrie had arranged to start by stage the next 
morning. 

It did not arrive however, and if it had, it would 
not have been allowed to proceed until after safety 
on its route ahead could have been fully assured. 

Toward sunset the following day news came that 
it had been captured by the Indians and burned, 
and that two passengers and the driver had been 
killed and shockingly mutilated. 

This Moultrie knew, at the best, would involve a 
delay of at least two days, as, even if the road was 
made safe for travel in a few hours, the next stage 
could not arrive and depart inside of that time. 

Such an adverse incident coming so directly, con- 
current with his intended and anxiously desired de- 


Moultrie homeward bound. 235 

parture, was a synchronism he worried over more 
than he himself was aware of. 

His whole mind was absorbed with thoughts of 
Bertha, and if it had not been made from the best 
material by one of the best tailors, that inside pocket 
could not have withstood the terrible strain to which 
it was subjected. Somebody’s photo suffered too. 

He all along was incessantly comparing her with 
the other pretty girls he had met, and out of the 
process all her heretofore enumerated little faults, 
which by and by he felt sure he could persuade her 
to amend, faded into oblivion, and she loomed up in 
towering contrast a perfect angel ! Faultless ! 

Suffice it to say, that the pasteboard that held the 
imprint of the face he loved so fondly, did not with- 
stand the frequent hissings it received half as sturdily 
as the well made inside pocket afore-mentioned did 
the frequent removal and return of her likeness. 
And, finally, when glowing with life and love he met 
the original, the photograph — poor photograph — 
looked as though it had reached the outermost verge 
of the most ragged of all ragged edges. 

How he did fume and fret as he waited for the 
permission of Colonel Swimm for the stage to pro- 
ceed and lessen the distance between them. The 
brief delay seemed an endless age. 

He was not a gushing young man, in the ordinary 
acceptation of that term. But he loved Bertha with 
all the passion and intensity of a strong character, 
and thrilled with pleasure when he thought of their 
approaching meeting, and of her as entirely and 
solely his own. 

H is wife ! “ Wife ! ” how sweet and sacred the 

word ! 

Therefore the thrusting of these deterring hours 
between his blissful expectations and their longed- 
for consummation, begot a bitterness of feeling for- 
eign to his nature. 

About 1 A. M., on the night of the alarm, all the 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


236 

available cavalry were properly mounted and started 
for the relief of the “ corraled ” citizens. 

Hercules rode in the van, on a powerful chestnut 
sorrel, magnificent looking in his splendid physique 
and well fitting campaign uniform. 

His party had been gone three days when they re- 
turned empty-handed, having succeeded in driving 
the Indians out of the neighborhood only, and being 
unable to overtake or force them into a conflict, or 
even drop the booty in their possession. 

On his arrival at the fort, he found Moultrie in 
readiness to take the stage, and waiting in front of 
Mr. Old’s door to say good-bye. 

At no time had the latter given to anyone in the 
garrison an intimation of the causes that prompted 
the circuitous route he was taking on his return to 
Colorado. Everyone thought his object business 
solely. 

The road he had passed over in coming from there, 
was now safe, and swarming with troops, but no one 
questioned him as to his motives. 

To Mr. Olds he had remarked his intention, if he 
should have the time to spare to take steps to ex- 
pedite the shipment of the large stock of Merchan- 
dise ordered by mail for their joint store after which 
he said, he would switch off and join the overland 
train that was conveying other goods to Centipede 
Canyon and the mines ; and Mr. Olds had inter- 
preted his impatience at the delay in his departure, 
occasioned by the Indian raid, as natural to such a 
wide-awake business man in whose nature it was im- 
possible to brook, with serenity any unexpected 
obstacle to or disarrangement of his plans. 

To the more or less charming young ladies of the 
garrison, all of whom were madly ambitious for de- 
sirable matrimonial alliance, and who recognized in 
Moultrie a handsome, congenial, wealthy and emin- 
ently eligible young man, his sudden exit was a sore 
disappointment indeed. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND, 237 

They had counted on his stay among them at 
least three months longer. 

Miss Swimm especially, who was a sort of female 
Narcissus, and had been “ coached ” to angle for 
desirable marriageable young men, was terribly chag- 
rined that he should be so blind to what she con- 
sidered her rare personal charms, and when he left: 
for this trip to “ the jumping-off place ,” as the end of 
the railroad was euphoniously called, vouchsafing no- 
amorous glance, or warm squeeze of her hand, she 
felt as -much neglected and woe-begone as did 
stricken Penelope when mighty Ulysses treated her 
impassioned and unsolicited wooing with such cool, 
and to her bitter imagining, heartless indifference. 

Attired in a wealth of soft pink and white silk mull, 
and a bunch of wild roses nestling in her hair and 
bosom, she would sit long and sighingly before her 
flattering mirror, waiting for Moultrie to send his 
card, and wonder why the sweet image of herself, 
with which she fell so violently in love, could not 
inspire this very Lentulus with overpowering senti- 
ments. 

“ But she never told her love,” etc. Truth to say, 

“She wasn’t that kind of a girl.” 

Miss Leclerque alone suspected her friend’s 
passion. 

And as she pitied, and sincerely wished to divert 
her thoughts, and was something of a vocalist and 
pianist, which the Swimms, both Madame and Miss, 
were not, she invited the young lady to visit her fre- 
quently, and listen to her instrumental rhythms and 
drink in the rapture of her sweet songs, while she 
viewed her own dear self, listlessly, yet lovingly, in 
their large pier glass. 

Now, out on that remote frontier, in that barren 
and God-forsaken country, fit only for “ savage 
beasts and still more savage men,” not every cap- 
tain’s family could afford such a rare luxury as a 
pier-glass. 

Lambrequins, portieres, carpets, mattings, rugs, 


238 AIOULTRlk bti KAlB. 

tapestries, valances, rich bedding and all other 
elegantly appointed household things that would 
endure, in long transit, crushing and rumpling most 
cruel, but like a bruised reed would not break, these 
things galore ! Every one had. 

But elegant, pier-glass mirrors ! 

Well, in this particular garrison, the Leclerques 
and the Rigbys only could boast their possession, 
and poor little Miss Swimm, who was such a chum 
of Miss Leclerque, used to go over to the latter’s 
house, just to have a good, full, life-size, front and 
profile view of herself, because it could not be ob- 
tained elsewhere. 

She would never have gone to the Rigbys for that 
purpose, no, never ! 

Miss Leclerque thought, indeed, that young De 
Kalb would be a splendid “ catch,” but somehow, 
he would not “ Hook on to her bait,” so she con- 
soled herself with the consciousness that there were 
fully as many fine fish in the sea as were ever caught 
out of it. 

And for her friend, who seemed to take her disap- 
pointment of Moultrie so much to heart, she felt the 
most earnest sympathy. 

In justice it should be added that, although Miss 

L had taken a decided fancy to him, and, to 

quote Mrs. Rigby, 

“ Would marry on the drop of a hat,” 

She had not thrown herself in his way in so many 
becoming costumes and charming poses as Miss 
Swimm had, nor in any other manner conspicuously. 

Miss Wilbur looked at Moultrie like a scrupu- 
lously careful and timid child looks at something 
beautiful exhibited, in a strong glass case, with a 
placard attached, 

“ Please don’t handle.” 

The innuendoes at this time, of a frisky, dapper, 
light-weight, country-bred, shoulder-strapped fellow, 
intensely self-conceited, annoyed Miss Leclerque 
exceedingly in this connection. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 


239 


This fellow was utterly lacking in all of those 
lofty drifts that make so many military men admired 
by their own sex, and adored by the opposite. 

He could profess decency more plausibly than 
anything in God’s image she had ever encountered, 
and at the same time, according to the testimony of 
his comrades, could descend lower and wallow with 
more perfect satisfaction in the veriest depths of 
vulgarity than any being she had ever heard of in 
respectable society. 

He had been several times severely reproved, and 
more than once roughly handled, for the too free 
indulgence of his penchant in this direction. 

He never drank whiskey and seldom was at the 
club, but had been caught by soldiers and citizens 
in dens the heaviest drinkers and card-players, 
among the officers, had too much self-respect to 
enter. 

He was known as Major Shaver, and was about 
five feet five inches in height, slender, and weighed 
perhaps one hundred and twenty pounds. 

His hair was close-cropped and red, his face 
freckled and much elongated from the eyebrows to 
the chin. His unusually long upper lip was sur- 
mounted by a red moustache, his eyebrows were red 
and his eyes, considerably drawn down at the outer 
corners, were of a pale, light blue. 

He was extremely disliked for his insufferable as- 
sumption and his Paul Pry disposition. 

According to general estimate his wife was, par- 
excellence, a fit better-half. 

She had been a widow for several years, at the 
time she had, so successfully, toyed with love’s arch- 
ery as to plant one of Cupid’s darts in his heart. 

Rumor said she had often expressed deep regret 
at thus recklessly playing with such dangerous weap- 
ons and she was quoted as protesting that she had 
fired the wayward and fatal barb only in fun. 

Some listeners accredited these expressions as her 
protest against being included in the general dis- 


240 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


favor with which she saw, but too plainly, her hus- 
band was viewed. 

Whatever her motive, her stock in trade in that 
line was, even by the least conscientious of the gar- 
rison gossips, considered as private wares that ought 
not to be paraded on public exhibition. 

Mrs. Shaver was particularly conspicuous for her 
beautiful complexion, the scrupulous and incessant 
care she took of it and the numerous “ white lies ” 
she retailed. 

There was no wonderful lotion extant, no recipe 
that could be applied to the preservation of that 
complexion, that she did not know perfectly. 

She was thoroughly versed in all its virtues and 
faults, all its perfections and deceptions, and knew to 
a dot when, how and where to use and when, how 
and where to avoid it. 

She was most lavishly supplied with masks, or face 
gloves, for use by day, and the best approved in- 
gredients for cosmetic applications at night. 

In a sentence, what she didn’t know about the 
mysteries of dermatology was not esteemed as 
worth knowing. 

She never would allow a summer zephyr to pass 
unarrested across the apartment in her cottage that 
she styled her boudoir, lest its breath should tan her 
carefully doctored skin. 

A “ boudoir ” in a Mexican mud-house was some- 
thing no one else could rise to. 

No sunlight was permitted to invade this sanctum, 
and she never ventured beyond its portals, except 
under extraordinary necessity, any hour from the 
rising of the sun to the going down thereof. 

But in the fading twilight, and by the uncertain 
rays of a student lamp, later on, in the evening, she 
would receive company, which consisted principally 
of the unmarried gentlemen of the garrison, with 
whom she delighted to flirt, assuring them, “ upon 
honor,” that she was just twenty-six years of age. 

She was thirty-nine. 


MOULTRIE HOMEWARD BOUND. 


241 


Moultrie had spent one evening on her front porch, 
but nothing could induce him to go there again. 

He saw that Fatty was not alone in his condemna- 
tion of them, and could not help but contrast the 
husband with the several other truly splendid fel- 
lows he had met, who were officially his comrades, 
but were ..so socially only because that “ courtesy 
which is considered indispensable to military disci- 
pline/’ made it obligatory. 

And, furthermore, these two people gave Moul- 
trie another opportunity to arraign Fatty for his 
absurdity in judging a whole community by its few 
black sheep, and other undesirable members. 

“ Why, my dear fellow ! you make me positively 
doubt your ability to be fair with people at all, by 
your unjust, wholesale strictures !” he exclaimed, 
one day, in protest against one of Fatty’s usual 
diatribes. 

“ You actually remind me of those shallow-brained, 
vapid, foreign tourists who come to America on a 
flying visit, and after a brief, cursive trip over the 
country, go home and rush into print immediately, 
in an abusive and ridiculously inaccurate description 
of our customs, characteristics and general make up. 

“ Let every tub stand on its own bottom ! Give 
every fellow his just dues.” And don’t be illiberal. 
Don’t call a whole family cross-eyed and cranky 
because one of the girls is so.” 


242 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

HERCULES IN HOT BUT FRUITLESS PURSUIT OF 
THE INDIANS. 

Mrs. Shaver frequently joined her husband in 
making fun of Miss Leclerque on account of Moul- 
trie. Not that there had been aught in Moultrie’s 
conduct to warrant anything of the kind, but simply 
because it teased the young lady, and Mrs. Shaver 
was decidedly jealous of Miss Leclerque’s superior 
accomplishments, talent and refinement. 

There is no doubt but that, of the several un- 
married women at the garrison, Miss Leclerque 
was, by far, the most attractive, and also the most 
amiable and cultured, and hence a veritable eyesore 
to this vain matron, who saw herself thrust into the 
background, whenever her fresh and girlish, but 
unintentional rival, appeared in the same circle. 

Her real motive in seeking to ridicule her was 
made apparent, however, by her eagerness, and she 
lost caste with everybody as a result, in spite of Miss 
Leclerque’s seeming helplessness. A suspicion by 
and by arose that she was equally as coarse as her 
husband, because of her boisterous merriment over 
his vulgar bantering of the young lady. 

To the latter, in fact, the matter became so annoy- 
ing that she finally dropped her informal evening 
visits to the Shavers altogether. 

She, in common with others, had been going there 
because Madame had managed to make it a sort of 
every evening rendezvous and headquarters for the 
young officers, and because she always found her 
friend Miss Swimm there. 

The petite Major’s sallies were always of doubt- 
ful propriety, and, though not fully understood by 
the innocent young girl, were sufficiently intelligible, 


HERCULES IN HOT PURSUIT. 


243 


taken in connection with the laughter and responses 
they provoked, to make her face, more than once, 
crimson, with illy-suppressed mortification. 

Shortly following the accidental elevation of a 
powerful political friend, whom Shaver had effi- 
ciently served in earlier years in the cesspools of 
metropolitan primaries, the Major was transferred to 
a higher field of duty. 

The hand of his political patron was plainly vis- 
ible in the matter, and although ‘‘the boost ” that 
took him from that oasis in an alkali desert — the 
garrison we have described — to a beautiful city, 
fanned by breezes from the Atlantic, was undeserved 
on the score of military merit, his departure was the 
source of heartfelt rejoicing to all, but to no one 
more than Miss Leclerque. 

But the grievous injustice of his promotion over 
the heads of many older and infinitely better officers, 
officers of long years of faithful service and brilliant 
records, was a bitter pill to swallow. 

No one denied Shaver's shrewdness, or the fact 
that he largely owed his great success to his skillful 
manipulation of his exceptionally favorable political 
opportunities, but that shrewdness was known to 
be merely low cunning, shrewdness of the lower 
species. 

And as for professional capacity and exceptionally 
long or distinguished service, not one of such claims 
could be offered in support of his preferment. 

In none of these respects was he more than the 
peer of the least deserving in his own grade in the 
army, and fell even below a majority of those in the 
grade next lower. He had had almost constantly, 
throughout his entire period of service, a soft berth, 
involving neither hardship, danger, nor any consider- 
able responsibility, but all the while bestowing extra 
fat emoluments. 

Moultrie was glad of the return of Hercules in 
time to say good-bye, and also took occasion to warn 
him against Major Blondin, whose threats to “ Fob 


244 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


low until lie had fired him out,” had reached him 
opportunely, but without his seeking, during Her- 
cules’ brief absence from the post. 

Moultrie talked until the stage driver said he must 
get in, or he would have to drive on without him, 
detailing little pleasantries that had characterized 
some of his farewell calls the night before. 

Then, tossing his hand-bag and wraps inside (where 
there were no other passengers), he mounted to the 
box and seated himself beside the driver, who at 
once whipped up and drove off. 

With the exception of an assistant agent at one of 
the three stage stations he passed, no traveling com- 
panion joined him for one hundred and twenty-five 
miles. 

This assistant rode only about thirty miles over 
the cactus-dotted stretch, from one to another sta- 
tion on the line. 

Greatly to his delight Moultrie found the differ- 
ent drivers, especially the first one, very chatty and 
quite intelligent regardingthe features and resources 
of the country through which they passed, and from 
them he gleaned much valuable information not 
heretofore obtained. 

Hercules had had a hard trip of it. 

He was by no means an expert in Indian warfare,, 
nor an experienced cavalry officer, and was too 
liable, in the pursuit of an object, to let the end 
absorb his attention to the neglect of needed provi- 
sion for the means whereby to attain that end. 

This had characterized his pursuit of the savages 
he had just failed to overtake and punish for their 
audacity in coming so close to the fort. 

He had plunged forward at a trot, from the be- 
ginning, and in his eagerness to get ahead, had de- 
clined to halt an instant to allow his men to readjust 
saddles, blankets and equipments, greatly in need of 
readjusting. Blondin, ripe in the kind of experience 
needed, should have gone in command. 

As a consequence of Hercules’ precipitancy, 


HERCULES IN HOT PURSUIT. 245 

some of the horses had very sore backs before the 
point at which the Indians were first reported to be, 
was reached. And to allow the incurrence of such 
a state, at such an early stage, is about one of the 
worst things that could happen to one in his situa- 
tion. 

Here a“ brief halt of less than ten minutes was 
allowed for this work and a needed breathing spell, 
and even that would have been denied had it not 
been forced as the result of the parley Hercules 
held with the ambushed citizens, to whose release 
he had hastened. 

They stated that the savages had been “ visible 
up to within an hour.” 

A prompt search immediately followed for their 
trail, which was soon discovered leading off across 
the prairie, parallel with up the river. 

If followed it would terminate at the reservation 
of a tribe reputed friendly, and who drew their 
rations and annuities with clock-like regularity from 
the appointed Indian agents of the government. 

Hercules, reinforced by the citizens, kept close to 
this trail until darkness made it indistinguishable, 
when the entire party dismounted, unsaddled, and, 
after sentinels were posted, dropped down in the 
grass and fell asleep across it. Those who could, 
in spite of their thirst, which was intense and which 
there was no means to quench, as there was not a 
drop of water in the detachment, and none visible 
anywhere on the surrounding plain, and the men 
had eaten raw bacon and hard bread only since 
supper the preceding evening. 

Next morning, at the first peep of dawn, with 
stiff ened and sore muscles, the little party hurriedly 
saddled and mounted, and again took the trail of the 
savages. 

Toward noon they reached the point where it 
crossed the river, and horses and men drank greedily 
of the dangerous and nauseating gypsum water, 


246 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


They had hardly completed their crossing before 
its effects became manifest. 

Everyone suffered more or less from it, and a halt 
became necessary, that consumed considerable valu- 
able time. 

To add to the annoyance the river, broad and usu- 
ally shallow at this point, had risen quite high, and 
where the men did not have to actually swim their 
horses in crossing, they were in greater peril from 
the treacherous quicksand. 

To his great chagrin, Hercules fared the worst of 
all in his command, from these causes. 

He had entered the stream all right, and had man- 
aged his large and powerful, but thoroughly tired 
animal, skillfully, through the swimming and wading 
until nearly on solid ground, on the opposite bank, 
when his horse suddenly struck a considerable area 
of the very worst of quicksand, and went down com- 
pletely out of sight, all save his tail, head and neck, 

Hercules went in also up to his armpits, but for- 
tunately his feet were, at the same moment, disen- 
gaged from the stirrups and he was thrown, forward 
and sidewise, entirely free from the saddle. 

He clung tenaciously to the double rein, and to 
this fact was eventually due the saving of the life of 
his horse. 

One of three or four troopers already on terra 
firma, threw him the end of a lariat to which was at- 
tached an iron picket pin, and Hercules managed, 
after some difficulty, to finally loop it around his 
waist. 

In his struggles, the horse, free of his rider, had 
risen a little, but just as, by his cool-headed orders, 
a couple of careful and thoroughly obedient men had 
commenced pulling Hercules out, the brave young 
officer noticed the horse was again sinking. 

He at once instructed another man, a fearless and 
agile little fellow, to pass a second lariat around his 
own body and, after giving the end to a comrade on 


Hercules in hot pursuit. 247 

shore, rush in behind the horse and whip him with 
his halter strap to keep him in motion. 

Meanwhile Hercules pulled with all his strength 
on his double rein, and shouted encouragement to 
the helpless and faithful animal until he was really 
hoarse. 

The two men who had him in tow pulled at the 
same time, or slackened the lariat as he ordered, and, 
in the course of time, after a protracted struggle, 
horse and rider were safely landed on hard ground. 

Hercules, with his usual indiscretion, would not 
wait until his clothes were thoroughly dry, but after 
a little manipulation of himself and his animal’s 
Goat, with horse brushes and bunches of grass, he 
immediately moved forward with his column, in 
hot pursuit of the redskins. 

Toward four o’clock in the afternoon, they got 
into the midst of a large herd of Buffalo, and lost 
the trail completely. 

This occurred just after the detachment had 
passed over a rise of ground, and at the same time 
they saw ahead a slender line of trees, indicating the 
presence of what, in that sparsely-timbered country, 
was considered a well-wooded stream. 

“ We’ll meet ’em over thar, I reckon,” 

Said the guide, pointing toward it, and Hercules 
immediately threw out skirmishers, disregarded the 
presence of the Buffalo entirely, and deploying into 
line of battle, pushed forward at a gallop. 

Just before sunset the command reached the river 
and satisfied themselves in a little while that there 
were no Indians near. 

Permission was then given three or four good 
buffalo hunters to try their skill on the herd, for the 
purpose of supplying the bivouac with fresh meat. 
And vedettes were thrown out, above and below in 
the timber, while the main party unsaddled and put 
their horses out to graze, under a strong guard. 

Soon huge fires were blazing, and about dark the 
buffalo hunters returned very much jaded, leading 


248 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


their horses, and with their saddles loaded down 
with the hind quarters and other choice parts of a 
couple of young cows. 

Hercules was sleeping soundly when they arrived, 
but quickly aroused himself when he sniffed a smok- 
ing supper of buffalo steak, bacon and coffee. The 
first meal in twenty-four hours. 

Taking a flask from his saddle pocket, which, to 
his credit be it said, he had held scrupulously in re- 
serve until that moment, for an emergency, he called 
the little man who had whipped up his horse in the 
quicksand, and poured into his tin cup a liberal po- 
tation. 

Then he placed the flask to his own mouth, and 
took a moderate drink himself. 

It put new life into his veins, and as a supplement 
to his previous short but refreshing nap, prepared 
him for the self-imposed, all night vigilance that 
followed. 

To all but himself and the guard, each of whom 
was on sentry duty two out of every six hours, it 
was a night of deep and thoroughly restful sleep. 

But all the horses had sore backs. Some were 
very seriously chafed and lacerated. 

Hercules was the only man in the command who 
slept not a wink until after the sun rose next morn- 
ing. 

The citizens who had accompanied him curled 
themselves up on the grass, and snored sonorously 
in successive crescendo, awakening every now and 
then from the noise they themselves made. 

When they did awake, and rose to a sitting pos- 
ition and looked about, they were sure to see the 
stalwart form of Hercules, moving noiselessly among 
the horses, or in subdued converse with a sentinel. 

At daybreak he ordered two daring and trusty 
soldiers to patrol up stream, a couple of miles, and 
another two downstream, in search for the trail. 

Nothing would induce any one of the citizens to 
accompany these men, and with long faces they 


HERCULES SUCCUMBS, 


249 


‘prophesied the total annihilation of the entire little 
party if Hercules did not at once turn back, saying 
they were getting too deep into the hostile country 
for safety or discretion. 

Hercules merely laughed, ordered his men to keep 
their carbines loaded, and then stretched himself on 
the grass to take a much-needed nap, until the 
patrolmen returned. 


CHAPTER XXVI L 

HERCULES SUCCUMBS, THE VICTIM OF MALICE AND 
CUNNING. 

The other two cavalry lieutenants, both of whom 
had gone up the road with another detachment for 
the protection of the stage and United States mail, 
and who were followed by half the Infantry in the 
garrison, returned the day before Hercules, having 
reached the point where the vehicle in question was 
waylaid and attacked just in time to bury the bodies 
of the massacred occupants by the light of its burn- 
ing and almost consumed remains. 

Nothing was left of the head of the stage driver 
save the face, and the cartilaginous portion of his 
nose had been cut off by blows from the butt end of 
a rifle. 

He was found lying prone with the whole skull 
and back of the neck smashed in and the face im- 
bedded in the soil from the force of the blows that 
had been dealt him. 

He was stripped of every article of clothing ex- 
cept one stocking, and his back and limbs were 
horribly gashed. 

He had evidently killed some of the Indians and 


Moultrie de kalb. 


this was the punishment he received therefor, when 
finally overcome. 

Among some of the southern tribes it is believed 
that to eat the flesh of a brave man is to impart his 
bravery to themselves. They had evidently ate the 
flesh cut from his buttocks like slices from a water- 
melon. 

The two passengers were not so badly mutilated, 
and the inference was that they had not fought so 
desperately, or successfully at least, before being 
killed, as had the stage driver. 

All were hastily buried in one grave, and a cairn 
of the loose stones lying about, was built over it 
for the protection of the bodies from wolves and 
other carnivora. 

The detachment under Hercules were a sorry 
lookirig lot as they entered the garrison. 

They had wasted" or lost their rations and had un- 
fitted their horses for further work for some time to 
come, and should have had at least one day’s rations 
on hand on their return. 

Colonel Swimm was very angry. 

It was the first time in his brief military career 
that Hercules had been in command and the sole 
officer with a detachment. But his inexperience 
was not considered any palliation in the least, al- 
though it should have been. 

He was condemned as though he had wantonly 
wrought this harm, and the condemnation of the 
commanding officer is nearly always the condemna- 
tion of all the contemptible sycophants who sur- 
round him and sneeze when he takes snuff. 

The ladies who were jealous of Mrs. Hercules 
were filled with delight and made spiteful capital out 
of the unfortunate incident, to the great damage of 
the young couple. 

From this time on there was unpopularity and 
misfortune for Hercules. And promotion for even 
less experienced but more highly favored juniors — 


HERCULES SUCCUMBS.' 


251 


juniors who belonged to that charmed circle, 
“ Family influence 

None of the few who felt like it, dared denounce 
the injustice of this wholesale condemnation, and 
finally reflecting that it was not their quarrel, and 
for-getting the sweetness of sympathy at the time of 
their own early blunders and inexperience, they left 
him to his fate. 

Meanwhile the young man kept on in his usual 
way, entirely unsuspicious of this adverse sentiment, 
and of the storm gathering over his devoted head, of 
which this incident was the first premonition. 

Kept on to his doom. 

Major Blondin was not idle. 

He had not forgotten him for the humiliation he 
had been subjected to at his hands in the drunken 
encounter at the clubroom with Moultrie, and if 
ever one man more than another was persistent and 
possessed, to perfection, the tact of the monkey who 
made tongs of the cat’s paws to take the chestnuts 
out of the fire, Major Blondin was that man. 

By what devices he accomplished it passes the 
ordinary human visual, but that he did plot, success- 
fully, and create dissensions, or widen existing 
breaches between Hercules and others, every one 
finally admitted. 

But not until too late. 

Especially was this realized after Hercules had 
been dishonorably dismissed from the army on 
trumped up charges, the result of a deep laid con- 
spiracy which Colonel Swimm could have but did 
not crush. 

There was an order in force at the time of the 
Indian raid described, which directed that all troops 
leaving the garrison should be carefully inspected 
by the adjutant before departure, and again immedi- 
ately upon their return. 

This duty, at this and for some time previous, had 
been delegated to Major Blondin, who, in the dis- 
charge of it-, had inspected the two detachments that 


MOULTRIE t>E KALB. 


252 

were Sent out on the memorable occasion just 
narrated. 

This one commanded by Hercules and the other 
that went to the place of the massacre. 

By some sort of satanic luck, he had not, up to 
the time Hercules returned, submitted a report of 
his inspection of his detachment before it left. 

And the condition in which he found the men and 
animals when they came back, coupled with the 
fruitlessness of the expedition, suggested to his mali- 
cious mind such changes in that document as would 
permanently record the young man as far more cul- 
pable than the truth could possibly represent him. 
And Blondin was not slow to put in execution the 
infamous thought. 

He painted his unfortunate victim as black, figur- 
atively speaking, as the most unbridled license would 
allow, and fortified his unjust reports by affidavits 
from the soldiers and citizens of the party. 

The former were only too glad to shift all respon- 
sibility from their own shoulders to those of their 
young commander, and the latter were easily made 
to believe, by the wily major, that Hercules had 
grossly mismanaged and thereby lost for them their 
valuable stock beyond hope of recovery. 

Major Blondin was a man whose anger it was 
perilous to rouse, for, as before intimated he cherished 
resentment — never forgave. 

Furthermore his enmity was very active and sleep- 
lessly aggressive. 

“ When he is really down on a man, he never lets 
up until the discount is big in his favor, ” 

Lieutenant Blower euphoniously remarked, on one 
occasion. 

And it was the “ undertow ” that he made espec- 
ially dangerous. The skillful and silent manipula- 
tions of all circumstances and situations adverse to 
Hercules, and the creation of new as well as the ad- 
vancement of existing hostile feeling toward him. 

This was done in such underhanded ways, and 


HERCULES SUCCUMBS. 




under such favorable conditions for the Major, that 
the end he sought was attained sooner than he had 
hoped, and attained, too, without any exposure of 
the cowardly part he had played himself, beyond 
what would appear perfectly natural from his well- 
known unfriendliness. 

If fortune had only unmasked the infamous hand 
that secretly pulled the strings and concocted the 
several plots from time to time, for the discomfiture 
and humiliation of Hercules, Blondin might have 
been exposed. 

But that did not occur. 

No evidence of persistent and unceasing muster- 
ing of inimical forces was sufficiently betrayed to 
constitute definite matter for counter-charges, and 
Hercules finally went to the wall, unaware, person- 
ally, of the secret warfare that had been so mali- 
ciously and continuously waged against him. 

In no man’s case, more than in his, has it ever 
been proven that adversity does mature the mind 
and age the body. 

The report of Major Blondin in reference to his 
pursuit of the Indians, charged him, falsely, with hav- 
ing received thoroughly sound horses throughout, 
on starting, and alleged, falsely again, the total un- 
fitness for further service, until some months, of all, 
when he returned. 

In after years, when Hercules learned the sad 
truth fully, and reflected on how this malicious man 
had built for him at department headquarters, and 
even the war office at Washington, a cruelly false 
reputation, he grew to understand what he had be- 
fore under-estimated, the great value of contesting 
untrue reports immediately on their utterance. 

But when this first proof of Blondin’s purpose to 
avenge himself, under official cover and through offi- 
cial agencies, for personal grievances, he merely 
snapped his fingers at him. 

Figuratively speaking again, Hercules did not cu- 


m 


MOULTRIE D£ KALE. 


his wisdom teeth until the period of their usefulness 
seemed to have passed. 

And when they were cut, he lamented what, in his 
self-reproaches he styled his stupid and fatal inex- 
perience that had permitted malevolent falsehoods 
to go unchallenged and become things of permanent 
record and supposed truths against him at headquar- 
ters, and among high authority where he was per- 
sonally a stranger. 

Led on to it by Blondin, the cowardly citizens 
who had snored all night in the bivouac last de- 
scribed, had carelessly signed affidavits to the effect 
that Hercules had done likewise, and had also, the 
following morning* slept again with the utmost in- 
difference until ten o’clock, which was the time at 
which his patrols had returned and reported that 
they could find no trail crossing the stream on which 
the command was camped. 

Long before the official copy of Blondin’s report 
had reached him from the Adjutant’s office, the citi- 
zens had scattered to their several ranches, and Blon- 
din had merely recommended that Hercules be 
censured. 

He knew full well no court martial would dismiss 
the young officer, and he also knew, or feared, that 
he himself would be exposed and Hercules vindi- 
cated on a sharp cross-examination. Hence he dare 
not suggest the extremes he so ardently desired. 


BERTHA AT THE THEATRE. 


255 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

BERTHA AT THE THEATRE EXCITES UNDISGUISED 
ADMIRATION. 

Mrs. POINSETT and Bertha alighted at noon, 
from a coach, at the ladies’ entrance to that Grand 
Western hotel, “ The Lindell,” in the city of St. 
Louis. 

Professor Cheval had come from Cedar-Crest with 
them as their escort, and his pretty wife, for the 
first time, saw the great metropolis of the south- 
west. 

The Poinsetts had prolonged their stay from 
Wednesday to Friday in order to enjoy their 
delightful companionship, the professor being un- 
able to conveniently defer his duties at the college 
during the intervening days. 

On arrival at the depot Mrs. Cheval and he drove 
to the home of a dear old friend on Choteau Avenue, 
where they were received with open arms, the tele- 
gram of the professor, announcing his coming, hav- 
ing arrived in due time. 

Moultrie had been posted in reference to this pro- 
gramme. 

That is, he had received a letter at the railroad 
terminus, and the very first thing Mrs. Poinsett did 
after entering the parlor was to send for a telegraph 
blank and the clerk, and dictate a dispatch to the 
same point, stating that she would remain in St. 
Louis until Tuesday night following. 

By nine o’clock the next morning she was on her 
way, with Prof. Cheval, to make some final purchases, 
and finish up a few uncompleted transactions in 
reference to her property, left in the hands of the 
agent Moultrie had recommended. 

Here, she learned, her traveling carriage, or rather 


256 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


Bertha’s, for she had declined to accept it, had been 
shipped some ten days’ previous to the end of the 
R. R. line. 

Bertha and Mrs. Cheval, on sight-seeing bent, 
drove meanwhile to the principal points of interest 
in the city. 

Tuesday came only too soon. 

Monday had been a day of recreation, ending 
with the theatre at night, and a supper following, 
which somewhat upset these villagers of early hours, 
so that they were not through the next morning’s 
breakfast and ready for outside attractions until 
nearly noon. 

Their R. R. tickets had been purchased, their 
baggage checked, and they were safely seated in 
their sleeper state room, waiting for the train to 
start, that evening, when they heard a voice ask : 

“ Is Mrs. Poinsett in this car ?” 

Bertha sprang to her feet and beheld a young man 
in the doorway, whom she had observed at the hotel, 
and who was the speaker. 

He approached her, and lifting his hat, asked if 
she was Mrs. Poinsett. The young rascal knew she 
was not. 

Bertha pointed to her mother, with a smile, and 
the young man, with keen business instinct, asked 
her in turn if she expected any telegram from the 
west, and if so from whom and from where. 

Mrs. Poinsett said she did not, unless some ac- 
cident had happened Mr. De Kalb at Hays City, 
Kansas, whereupon, with a satisfied smile, the youth 
delivered a dispatch that had been opened 

Bertha was expressing her surprise at this seem- 
ing liberty, when her mother interposed, saying 
she had requested the hotel people to do so with 
any telegrams arriving, and if important to repeat 
them on the line of the railroad at such point as they 
thought would reach her. 

The young man said that the one just turned over 
to her had been delivered a few moments after her 


BERTHA AT THE THEATRE. 


25; 


carriage had left the hotel, and he then felicitated 
himself on his good fortune in reaching them before 
the train hadleft. 

The words were scarcely uttered when the cars 
began to move, and wealthier by one dollar bestowed 
by Mrs. Poinsett, the young fellow hurried for the 
platform. 

Bertha and her mother now had time to read the 
message, and judge of their surprise when they found 
it was from Moultrie and requested them to remain 
at the Lindell until his arrival, and announced that 
he would leave the end of the track to join them at 
nine ' o’clock that very evening. Of course, they 
were delighted. 

It did not take long to call the conductor and ar- 
range to have their baggage put off at the first 
station. 

As good luck would have it they had to wait only 
a few minutes for an incoming train, and re-occupied 
that night the same room they had vacated at an 
earlier hour. 

Bertha, glancing from the evening paper to her 
watch, urged her mother to take her to the theatre, 
saying it was not late and a noted actress was to 
play in Romeo and Juliet. 

She would not take no for an answer, and actually 
half dragged the indulgent mother off to witness the 
drama in question. 

She had no idea, poor, innocent child, that there 
was any difference between ladies going without an 
escort to an entertainment in that populous city, and 
the little village of Cedar-Crest, or if she had she was 
too independent to care. Maybe the thought didn’t 
occur to her at all. 

The “ great actress ” fully sustained her splendid 
reputation, and her support throughout was most 
excellent, as were also all the stage appointments. 

Bertha was charmed. The audience was a cultured 
one. 

The lines were very familiar to her, but never be- 


258 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


fore had she witnessed the play presented with ap- 
propriate stage settings, and by a superb company, 
that did full justice to all their respective parts. 
She had read it only. 

What are by many regarded as insipid portions of 
the text, had never impressed her when reading them 
as platitudes, and she could not believe, after this 
grand presentation, that they ever would so impress 
her. 

So much, in fact, was she fascinated with the 
charming and suggestive balcony scene, that, leaning 
forward, in rapt attention, she was totally uncon- 
scious that her own lovely face was a most entranc- 
ing study for those in the audience who saw and 
could not help riveting their gaze on it. 

Especially did the many gentlemen, with their 
double-barreled lorgnettes, leveled directly at her 
speaking features, appreciate this fact. 

Suddenly, Mrs. Poinsett, discovering the situation, 
and overwhelmed with blushes, called Bertha’s at- 
tention to herself, and besought her to leave the 
place at once. Poor little woman, she recoiled from 
being made so conspicuous. 

“ Everyone knows we are the veriest of green- 
horns,” 

She said, pleadingly, by way of argument. 

But her daughter, looking fearlessly at the audi- 
ence, could see no “ men staring through a multitude 
of opera glasses with all their eyes,” as her mother 
had stated. 

Furthermore, she was enchanted beyond expres- 
sion with the play. So she decided, quite emphati- 
cally for her, to stay and see it out, saying, 

“It would be worse than ever if we attract addi- 
tional attention by leaving in the middle of the per- 
formance, and also give good cause for such an 
opinion.” 

The opera.glasses had been politely lowered when 
Mrs. Poinsett had manifested so much uneasiness. 

Th^t is why Bertha did not see them. 


BERTHA AT THE THEATRE. 259 

But the glasses were soon leveled at her again, 
when she and her mother were once more absorbed 
in the play and not watching. 

Bertha certainly did look bewitching in her neatly 
fitting, gray traveling costume. 

The jaunty turban set off her immaculate head to 
perfection, and the little standing collar, with its 
narrow line of spotless white encircling the swan-like 
neck, the corners in front turned down, on either 
side of the dimpled chin, and fastened at the throat 
with a modest little bow of satin ribbon, in color like 
the dress, was exceedingly becoming to her style of 
beauty. 

Each poise and turn of the head, and each sway 
of the body, was grace personified, and she could 
not have prevented it, had she tried, for it was 
inborn in her. 

The symmetrically sloping shoulders, and small 
slender hands and tapering fingers, bespoke the pa- 
trician of classical archetype. 

Those who had so rudely gazed at her, in such 
rapt admiration, could not honestly set her down, in 
their convictions, as a rustic, or even a rough dia- 
mond, although the men who gathered in the lobby 
to stare again, as she made her exit, after the cur- 
tain fell, for lack of better judgment or lack of 
knowledge of more fitting words, so described her. 

“ From the country, that’s plain to be seen,” re- 
marked one. 

“Crude, but by Jove! beautiful!” said another, 
and : 

“ Oh, Arthur, why do you stare so at that girl ?” 
added a nicely-dressed little lady, leaning on the arm 
of her red-faced husband. 

Some one has written, I think it was Amy Leslie 
in the Chicago Evening News , that “There is a 
pretty convent devotion that shields innocence and 
£eems to link virginal womanhood to highest Heaven. 
IMuns put a sweet little prayer upon the lips of girl- 


26 o 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


hood, that begs the shelter of a watchful angel’s 
wings.” 

“ I think it very beautiful to hope that virginity 
is so tenderly protected.” 

Mrs. Poinsett felt very nervous indeed to have 
themselves thus, the cynosure of all eyes, and was 
glad beyond measure of the relief, when an impor- 
tunate hackman presented himself, and she was able 
to escape into his carriage, and be driven to the 
hotel. 

As Bertha, however, leaned forward, so completely 
bewitched with the play, and unconscious of every- 
thing else, and watched and listened enthralled, es- 
pecially through that famous balcony scene, her rich 
red lips parted, her speaking eyes scintillating, and 
a faint, roseate hue mantling her rounded cheeks, 
the harmonious lineaments of her lovely face seemed 
to reflect, as a faithful mirror, the blissful sentiment 
palpitating her guileless young heart. 

Once, in the midst of one of the prettiest scenes,. 
Mrs. Poinsett glanced at Bertha as if for approval 
of her approval. She was amazed ! She thought 
she had never seen anything so lovely as her baby" 
girl was at that moment, and drawing the curtain,, 
so as to screen them from the audience, she threvr 
her arms around her and kissed her. 

The great impersonator oi Juliet saw the act, and 
walking down the stage, threw a passion flower into 
their box. The drawn curtain had not shut out her 
view of its interior. 

The audience saw the act of the great actress, 
and applauded to the echo. And this little inci- 
dent doubtless accounted, in a measure, for the at- 
tention they attracted when leaving the theatre. 

Bertha met the stares directed at her fearlessly. 

Though a gentle, cultured and affectionate girl v 
she was self-reliant, and capable of defying Mrs. 
Grundy. 

Her mother was surprised at her perfect ex- 
posure and dignity. 


BERTHA AT THE THEATRE. 261 

That night the expectant bride dreamed many 
fantastic dreams. And her mind wandered and 
reveled with beautiful-eyed houri in one long, pleas- 
ant spell, through all the sweet hours that her lovely 
head rested in the downy depths of her luxurious 
pillow. 

She was in enchantment land, a fairy princess, 
and Moultrie was a prince, clad in indescribable 
magnificence, wooing her to the strains of sweetest 
music, and by the light of lovely fountains that sent 
forth innumerable, rich-hued streams of perfumed 
and illuminated waters and sparkling spray. 

Oh, the glamour of love and youth ! 

The next morning she commenced a letter to Mrs. 
Cheval, directly after breakfast, and wrote seventeen 
pages before she was ready for the first postscript. 

And then afterwards she wrote such a long one, 
that it took two stamps to pay the postage on it 
alone. 

Mrs. Cheval and she were confidential and de- 
voted friends, and Mrs. Cheval was, as she herself 
expressed it, 

“ Just crazy to see that wonderful man, who could 
be so completely a very demi-god in the esteem of 
my little friend.” 

All Cedar- Crest knew of the approaching mar- 
riage, and all Cedar-Crestians were on the qiii yive, 
anxious to do the honors to the happy couple. 

Not one of them but believed, now that Moultrie 
was coming to Saint Louis for his bride, that he 
would make at least a flying visit to his birth-place. 

And every one of them was anxious for an ex- 
planation, from his own lips, of his marvelous suc- 
cess. 

“We just do want to know the modus operandi , as 
it were,” said the postmaster. 

“ And I reckon we do,” responded the ticket 
agent at the depot. “ But what is Modus opendi ?” 

JVfoultrie shied clear of his birth-place, however, 


262 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


“ No man is without honor except in his own 
country.” 

To all of Cheval’s arguments he turned a deaf 
ear saying, “ I owe Cedar-Crest nothing and shall 
not incur any debt, nor put the place under obliga- 
tions to myself, by going there. Unless you wish 
it,” he added, looking at Bertha. 

“ I wish just what you wish and think best,” she 
replied, promptly. 

“ All right ! Since I don’t wish to pose as a dime 
museum freak, nor a nine days’ wonder, nor a curios- 
ity of any kind or calibre, 1 shall decline going to 
Cedar-Crest to make either a holy or any other kind 
of a show of myself. 

“ Especially so as side partner and first or second 
fiddle to you.” And Bertha looked her approval of 
“ them sentiments.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

HOW CHEVAL WON HIS WIFE. 

Mrs. Cheval was different from everyone else. 
She was an old convent chum of Lydia Waring and 
that is why she drifted to Cedar-Crest. 

The circumstances were these. 

Mrs. Cheval had lost her parents several years 
previous and had, since then, been keeping house for 
her brother, who was a navy officer, stationed at a 
large navy yard, on the Atlantic seaboard. 

Suddenly orders came that broke up her brother’s 
domestic establishment at the yard and shipped him 
off to China, as executive officer of one of the war 
ships of the fleet in those far away seas. 

For a long time one of her dearest and most con- 


HOW CHEVAL WON HIS WIFE. 263 

stant correspondents had been Lydia, and of course, 
what was transpiring and what was in prospect had 
been regularly written by both. 

Mrs. Cheval was offered a home with her aunt, and 
with her grandma, and with a dozen kind friends in 
a dozen different places, for she was greatly beloved 
by all who knew her. 

But the most welcome letter she received was 
that from Lydia inviting her to spend the summer 
with her in her western home. 

“ We’ll make flying trips to Chicago and St. Louis 
and take rides on the Mississippi River,” Lydia had 
written, “and have just a grand old time.” 

Mrs. Cheval had never been west. She had never 
seen a prairie, and she would like to have a ride on 
that great “ Father of Waters ” De Sota had discov- 
ered and explored. 

She therefore wrote, cheerfully, in return, “ I will 
consent to be a responsibility and a probable nui- 
sance on your hands this summer.” 

The parting between her devoted “ big brother ” 
and herself had taken place and was quite affecting. 

She had paid a brief visit to auntie and grandma, 
and had finally landed at the Cedar-Crest depot, 
where Lydia had folded her in her arms, with the 
usual greeting peculiar to the reunion of long separ- 
ated old school-girl chums. 

It was a pretty picture, that meeting. Just imagine 
it. 

Two truly lovely, affectionate and cultured girls, 
full of life and love for everything beautiful and 
good, and utterly oblivious of, or indifferent to the 
crowd staring at them, embracing and kissing each 
other, then talking a bit and kissing again, and each 
asking the other a hundred questions, never waiting 
an instant for one to be answered, both chatting 
away with the utmost volubility, neither remember- 
ing a moment after what she had said a moment 
before — was it not a pretty picture ?” 

For full three minutes neither stopped talking a 


264 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


second, except for a hurried breath, and then both 
said together: 

“ Oh, my ! I am so tired !” 

And laughed and linked their little fingers as a 
sign of good luck, because they had both said the 
same thing at the same time. 

“Won’t you introduce me to your ‘ little rascal,’ ” 
spoke a manly voice at this juncture. 

And both turned in amazement and looked up at 
an elderly gentleman, 

“Upon whose face the imprint of God’s image 
was stamped !” grand old Dr. Waring! 

“Hello, papa! Here is Lillian ! Darling, this is 
my father.” 

And now the ice being broken, a full-fledged 
Cedar-Crest mob surrounded and besieged the girls, 
for it was a holiday and “ school was out,” and a 
picnic on the tapis. 

A Cedar-Crest mob, except in the extreme lower 
end of town, was always a highly respectable gather- 
ing. 

Twenty persons at the depot had heard Lydia call 
her friend “You sweet little rascal.” 

Dr. Waring was not alone, therefore, in that re- 
spect. He too had heard. And from thenceforth 
those who did not know her by her real name, ad- 
mired Mrs. Cheval at a distance, as a “ sweet little 
rascal.” 

Every one will remember that Lydia liked “ things 
practical .” 

If she meant by that that she liked what was un- 
affected and natural in human nature, she had hit 
the nail on the head in liking her friend, Lillian 
Estelle. 

Miss Estelle knew no more how to feign, presume 
or assume, how to deceive or be indiscreet, how to 
flatter or be fulsome, than the veriest nobody in in- 
telligence in that drift, on earth. 

She had descended from distinguished lineage. 
Had relatives all over the land who were among the 


HOW CHEVAL WON HIS WIFE. 26 5 

most highly respectable in the neighborhood in 
which they lived. 

But she was an independent little piece of crino- 
line-clad humanity, and “ as long as De Courcey— 
her big brother — lived,” she did not desire* she 
said, to accept even the slighest service or courtesy 
at .other hands, because, to quote her own words, 

“ I have no establishment of my own nor any 
other means of reciprocation.” 

I have said that Mrs. Cheval was unlike any one 
else. But this characteristic, or whatever you choose 
to call it, does not count in that connection. 

Some people admire long hair of thick growth 
and hair pronounced in color or fineness. 

Lillie’s hair was neither long nor thick nor pro- 
nounced in color or fineness. 

What there was about and in her queenly head 
was not expended in that direction. 

Now and then one meets with children, more fre- 
quently boys of patrician parentage, who have silken 
brown tresses, that shine and glisten, and turn to 
gold, in sunlight. 

They decorate the head like a diadem and invest 
it with the semblance of royalty. 

Lillian Estelle’s hair was like that. 

She was scant five feet three in height and just 
sufficiently plump to be called neither slim nor stout. 

A natural fluffiness, or inclination to curl made 
artificial bangs positive distortions, or would have 
made them so had they ever been resorted to, and 
converted her neither thick nor thin head of hair, 
into a glorious crown piece for an exquisitely 
chiseled face, neck, and shoulders. 

More than one artist and sculptor, not to speak of 
scores of dudes, and numerous better men than 
dudes, had raved over these, presented in semi pro- 
file. 

The nose was sufficiently Grecian not to be too 
severe in outline. The forehead was low, the eye- 


2 66 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


brows golden and the mouth not too pliant; the 
eyelashes long and light colored. 

That mouth, and the little, rounded, aristocratic 
chin, told their own story to the physiognomist. 

They would yield to discipline. 

And the clear, beautiful blue eyes, peering through 
their fringe of silken yellow lashes, suggested a latent 
force of character, not to be roused except on great 
occasion. 

The plump, small, jeweled hands, with their long 
tapering fingers and rosy finger nails, and the tiny, 
slender feet confirmed the impression instantly made 
by the face. 

No wonder Lydia wanted her old schoolmate to 
come out West and spent the summer with her. 

And such a delightful summer as it was ! 

It passed all too quickly. 

Somehow, Professor Cheval did not take his usual 
outing that year. And somehow he was always 
around and made himself a necessity whenever 
Lydia was arranging a divertisment. 

And somehow, if by any mischance, he was not, 
Lillian suggested, now, in the most off-hand manner 
possible, and then oracularly, that he should be sent 
for and consulted before they finally decided. And 
he always was sent for. 

Lillian had a very large correspondence. She was 
a facile, rapid writer, and wrote numerous short let- 
ters, in response to numerous long ones. 

But if her piles of scented epistles had been as high 
as a haystack, she would have dropped them all at 
the sound of Cheval’s voice. 

As the time for Miss Estelle’s departure grew near, 
Lydia smelled a mystery which worried her but was 
destined to be short lived. 

She was sick at heart over a sudden reticence that 
took possession of her friend. 

But in a few days a big square envelope, with the 
seal and superscription of the Cedar-Crest Ladies’ 


oh! loving is a RAPTUROUS THRILL. 2^7 


Seminary, was found at Lillian’s plate, close to a dish 
of fruit on the breakfast table. 

“The cat was out of the bag!” 

Lillian blushed and passed it to Lydia. 

It was the appointment of the latter as teacher of 
French and music. 

Eight months afterward, just as the grass began to 
sprout and the trees to leaf, she changed the name 
of Estelle for that of Cheval. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

OH ! LOVING IS A RAPTUROUS THRILL. 

Thursday noon, while Mrs. Poinsett was out 
shopping, there was a rap at their room door, and 
with her heart in her mouth Bertha read, 

“Moultrie De Kalb,” 

On a plain, heavy card she took from the tray, 
extended toward her by the colored waiter. 

“ The gentleman is in the pariah,” he said. 

“ Please show him the way up,” 

Was her nervous answer, enunciated as if each 
succeeding word was trying to force itself ahead of 
its immediate predecessor. 

Then she reflected, after the boy had left, that 
perhaps it was not exactly proper to receive him 
while alone in her own room, and while she was 
considering the idea, “ little goose,” of going down 
to the parlor to receive him, she again heard a 
knock at the door. 

It was the same old rap so familiar to her, though 
somewhat more vigorous, this time. Three minor 
taps and a loud bang. 

How Bertha did tremble ! 

Her heart ceased to beat, for an instant, and ruth- 


'258 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


lessly jumped Into her throat and choked off her 
timid, tremulous 

“ Come in !” 

“ It wasn’t loud enough, and Moultrie was obliged 
to knock again. Which he did with increased 
vigor. 

He had slowly followed on the trail of the colored 
boy, and that individual had had to retrace his steps 
toward the parlor but part of the way, where he met 
the impatient young man, delivered Bertha’s mes- 
sage to him on the stairway, and pointed out her 
room. 

At the second knock she immediately started to- 
ward the door, flushed crimson and tottering as she 
went. 

It opened, however, before she reached it, and a 
manly figure, with a handsome face, somewhat 
bronzed, suddenly darted forward and folded her 
in his arms. 

-Bertha!” 

“ Moultrie !” 

Were all the words uttered. 

“ But love spake love to eyes that spake again.” 

He lifted her sweet, happy face, hid against his 
breast, and upturned it to his own, and as it lay, con- 
fidingly, on his good right arm, he bent his lips to 
hers and kissed her, rapturously. 

Pleasure is never unalloyed. 

While he and Bertha were thus engaged totally 
oblivious of all things else, save themselves and their 
happiness, the door suddenly opened and in popped 
Mrs. Poinsett. 

Presto ! Veto ! Change ! 

We will draw a curtain over the blissful tableau. 

Suffice it to say, without too abrupt a “ draw ,” 
dear reader, Moultrie, with rare presence of mind, 
turned to the still pretty widow, after the first blush 
of surprise and confusion was over, calling her 
- Dear Mother,” and kissed her, submissively, much 
to the relief of Bertha who, although she had 


OH ! LOVING IS A RAPTUROUS THRILL* 269 

enjoyed hugely what had preceded, welcomed this 
change of attack as the best assuager of her mortifi- 
cation at being so suddenly caught. 

And then, bless us ! What a mutual admiration 
society there was among the three, for a little while. 

The sojourn at the hotel during the next few 
days, was a season of inexpressible delight to the 
happy twain. 

Bertha desired a strictly private wedding, and ex- 
cept the clergyman who officiated, the hotel boni- 
face, Prof. Cheval and wife, and a few St. Louis 
friends, there were no guests at the joyous nuptial 
breakfast in the cosy private parlor opposite Mrs. 
Poinsett’s own room. 

On reaching the railroad terminus, where Moultrie 
had intended to meet Bertha and her mother, he 
had learned that there had just occurred a general 
uprising of the Indian tribes, throughout the section 
of country he would have to pass over with his 
bride, on his return to Centipede Canyon, and the 
opportune, businesslike telegram from Mrs Poinsett, 
showed him he would be able to intercept her in St. 
Louis, by telegraphing at once. 

He told them he had prepared everything for the 
marriage at the end of the railroad, just before he 
had heard this news. 

He had found there a tall and very thin clergy- 
man, very thin indeed, who had been chaplain of a 
volunteer regiment, in the war of the rebellion, and 
was en route to a reservation as Indian agent. And 
he was to have tied the knot. 

And he recounted, with a hearty laugh, how he 
had grossly offended that chaplain by addressing 
him as “ Dr. Bernhardt.” 

A wag of an engineer, connected with the railroad 
survey, had told him that that was his name. 

He lived in the same village the D. D. came from, 
and, it appears, the villagers had dubbed him that 
because he was so very thin. 

Being a Methodist he was bitterly opposed tc 


2 JO MOULTRIE DE KALB. 

theatricals and theatrical celebrities and resented the 
appellation as a gross indignity. 

“ He was a very nice old gentleman,” Moultrie 
continued, “ and I explained the matter without be- 
traying anyone, and we parted good friends. 

“ But it was a good joke on me and I was glad to 
get away. Every one nagged me so.'’ 

Immediately after the wedding breakfast Moultrie, 
Bertha and Mrs. Poinsett entered a carriage and 
were driven to the depot where they took the cars 
for Chicago. 

Here they remained three days, spending their 
time riding about the city and attending the theatre, 
opera and other places of amusement, when not en- 
gaged in “billing and cooing.” 

From Chicago they went to Detroit, and then to 
Cleveland and Buffalo. 

At the latter place, as has been the case with other 
territorial people, the frequent mention of its name, 
in a half dazed sensation, constantly reminded 
Moultrie of the animal so prevalent in his western 
home. The fast vanishing Buffalo of the Plains. 

Several days they spent at each of these points, 
and Moultrie met many old acquaintances at Fort 
Wayne and Fort Porter who cheerfully assisted him 
in “ seeing the elephant.” 

Then, by way of Niagara Falls and Toronto, Can- 
ada, they went leisurely to Montreal (stopping at 
the palatial Windsor), and after much sightseeing 
there, switched off to Burlington, Vermont, from 
which point they proceeded by easy stages, to New 
York City, going by way of Lake George, Saratoga, 
West Point and Albany. 

At all these places they loitered long enough to 
thoroughly do them justice. 

Bertha was as supremely happy all the time as 
she could have been had her dream of enchanted 
land at the famous St. Louis hotel come true. 

She had read much about the many beautiful 


OH ! LOVING IS A RAPTUROUS THRILL. 271 


scenes through which this delightful trip took them, 
and now she saw all the reality with her own eyes. 

They remained in New York City about three 
weeks, and while there Moultrie made remarkably 
good use of his time, both in sightseeing and busi- 
ness directions. 

Every morning, with Bertha, who accompanied 
him everywhere, he would sally out of the Bruns- 
wick, at which splendid hostlerie he had rooms, and 
go down among the jobbers and the large auction 
firms, real estate and mining offices, and purchase 
goods at great bargains, for shipment west, or buy 
and sell stocks and securities. 

In these little expeditions Mrs. De Kalb went into 
localities where, at that time, ladies were scarcely 
ever seen. And her beauty, grace and princely-ap- 
pearing husband created a decided sensation. 

Moultrie, too, was recognized as a shrewd capital- 
ist, and very soon “ spotted ” as a mining millionaire 
and cattle king, to lie in wait for and fleece. 

As they were walking up crowded Broadway, one 
afternoon, after a visit to the Stock Exchange, they 
came in collision with a tall, portly gentleman, who, 
after several fruitless efforts, had finally put a dan- 
gerous banana peel off the sidewalk into the gutter. 

A polite apology from Moultrie was followed by 
a pleasant chat, as the old gentleman was going their 
way, and, to his infinite surprise, Moultrie discovered 
that he was conversing with the father of Hercules. 

Of course Bertha would not accept “ No ” for an 
answer, and as a consequence, he had to accept their 
pressing invitation. So the three dined together, 
sans ceremoyiie. 

Bertha told what she knew of Hercules when he 
was a “ good boy ” at college, and Moultrie spoke 
of their meeting on the remote Indian border, and 
mutual interest and delight prevailed. 

In the evening the trio went to see Lillian Russell 
at the Casino. 


2/2 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


How little the sharks, who had the project in view 
to fleece Moultrie, knew of him. 

Though a stranger in New York and ignorant of 
Wall Street methods, in his hours of leisure during 
his career in the far West, he had not been idle, but 
had read extensively of this very class of speculators 
and commercial cormorants, and his eye teeth, to a 
considerable extent, had been already, theoretically, 
cut. 

His principal literature, in fact, had been treatises, 
and random articles on the ins and outs of money 
making. And the market and stock reports and 
quotations as given in the New York and other 
newspapers had been like daily food to him. 

“Some time/' he had said to himself, “I will live 
in New York.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


THE CHIEF WEDDING GIFT AND THE BRIDAL TOUR. 

ONE bright morning he invited Mrs. Poinsett to 
accompany Bertha and himself on a three days’ car- 
riage trip over certain portions of Long Island. 

He spread a chart on the breakfast table, and in- 
dicated his route by pencil tracings. 

She was delighted at the idea, and pinched Ber- 
tha’s arm in approval. 

Moultrie hurried them up and they were soon on 
their way. 

Of all the lovely places and desirable locations 
seen on this very pleasant jaunt, for the weather was 
delightful all the time, an ancient farm-house, with a 
deep, broad verandah, situated in a pretty grove of 
venerable trees, on a gently sloping hill, and over- 


THE CHIEF WEDDING GIFT. 2/j: 

looking the broad ocean, suited Bertha and her 
mother best. 

In vain did Moultrie try to make them believe 
other places he pointed out were more beautiful, or, 
at least, on some accounts more desirable. And 
finally he admitted, with expressions of unmistakable 
satisfaction, that their selection had been his all 
along. 

News about this time reached him that the road 
was now safe and the country on the way to Centi- 
pede Canon filled with troops and deserted by In- 
dians. He therefore proposed a short trip to Boston, 
stopping at Newport en route, and announced at 
the breakfast table suddenly one morning that they 
would leave by boat for the latter place that night. 

About noon he escorted the ladies to an attorney’s 
office on Broadway, where the papers were duly read 
and signed, and the Long Island property, so much 
admired, to their infinite surprise was deeded by him 
to his wife as “ a wedding present.” 

The intended two days at the “Athens of Amer- 
ica” was, however, stretched out to five, before they 
could possibly tear themselves away. 

At Newport they went over the famous ocean 
drive, sported in the festive waves, much unlike dol- 
phins, and swallowed their full quantum of Atlan- 
tic’s brine. 

At Fall River they watched a cotton bale pass 
through the looms and the print works until it came 
out calico, which they bought and took west with 
them. 

Finally, they boarded the express at Boston for 
St. Louis, en route to their Colorado home. 

Every conceivable new housekeeping device that 
promised improvement over old methods had been 
previously selected by Mrs. Poinsett and shipped 
from New York. She would go out almost daily on 
exploring expeditions, up and down Broadway, and 
other streets, and report results to Moultrie the same 
evening or next mornipg. 


274 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


As a consequence, many ingenious articles were 
purchased at wholesale, and added to the stock in 
trade for the several stores he was interested in. 

Wherever it was possible he furnished two state- 
rooms for his party, having the forethought to tele- 
graph ahead, thus securing the very best on the 
roads over which they traveled. 

There was but one delay over the entire long and 
somewhat tedious route, and this occurred at an un- 
interesting crossroad, the Saturday night following 
their departure from Boston. 

They were detained thirty hours, but their “ lines 
fell in pleasant places,” for the hotel at the station 
furnished meals for three different intersecting rail- 
road lines, had been but recently built, was nicely 
furnished, and best of all, in charge of an excellent 
caterer. 

And Moultrie was very fortunate in finding the 
best suite of rooms in the place vacant. 

His private parlor opened out on averandah, vine- 
trellised and broad, that overlooked the track they 
would start out on the following Monday morning. 

The grand round of sight-seeing they had indulged 
in demanded this opportune but enforced rest for 
Bertha and her mother and they were both much re- 
freshed when they again resumed their journey. 

It also proved very welcome and refreshing even 
to the busy and restless Moultrie, impatient to get 
back to his business. 

They went on from this point continuously to the 
end of the track, making close connections every- 
where they changed cars, and found Sefior Ysleta 
and the others waiting for them, and a large over- 
land wagon train, with an escort of soldiers loading 
up preparatory to departure. 

Moultrie had corresponded with the Sefior during 
their separation, by means of which he had been 
kept posted in respect to everything transpiring that 
referred to his own business interests. 

The various shipments made from New York and 


THE CHIEF WEDDING GIFT. 


275 


elsewhere, had been duly received and the boxes, 
labeled with numbers corresponding with the num- 
bers on the invoices of their contents, had been 
judiciously loaded on the huge “prairie schooners” 
that were to carry them to their final distant desti- 
nation. 

While on the cars Bertha indulged in a long retro- 
spect of her experiences since her wedding day. 
And it amazed, amused and bewildered her. 

She had seen so much in so short a time and had 
traveled so far. 

Oh ! What a multitude of recollections came 
trooping through her mind. 

All the different kinds of people she had encount- 
ered passed in rapid review before her. 

She had met and had noted the peculiarities of 
persons who had lived in hotels all their lives, and 
persons who had never slept nor even taken a meal 
in a hotel. 

Persons who had never known the pleasure of a 
ramble across green fields and through forests and 
had never been outside the limits of the noisy and 
crowded dingy city in which they had been born. 

She had met, too, people who had never been in a 
larger town than the county seat of their native 
county. 

People who having been taught none at home, 
took their manners from what they observed in res- 
taurants, and knew no higher standard of good 
breeding. 

Other people of a self-assumed, higher “respecta- 
bility,” who drank their champagne at the close of 
banquets and symposiums, and thought it the only 
appropriate time for doing so. 

Wealthy people and common people ; cultured 
people, instructed but not educated, and poor but 
educated and high-bred people; people of all 
descriptions of personality and professions and 
trades, as well as moneyed idlers, “ people of leisure,” 
and Drazen adventurers — all these she had met, for 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


276 

Moultrie, on extensive sight-seeing bent, had taken 
her with him everywhere. And she had closely 
studied them all, for she was a very observant little 
girl, Bertha was. 

And oh ! what a kaleidoscope of humanity they 
presented ! How much her blissful wedding tour 
had given her to think about. And how very much 
she had seen of many things in every-day life in 
this busy world that she had never dreamed of. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

HOW THE INDIAN CAPTIVES WERE RANSOMED. 

The unfortunate lady, nurse and children who 
were carried into captivity, were not killed by the 
Indians, into whose usually merciless hands they 
had fallen, but were hurried to a remote Indian 
village and held for ransom. The children, happily, 
soon won the hearts of their fierce captors, and were 
much petted by them, after their barbarous fashion. 

And after the terror inspired by these hideously 
painted savages had worn off, the children grew fas- 
cinated with their wild mode of life, and with daring 
and dexterity joined with the Indian children in 
their various sports, ofttimes winning victories over 
them in juvenile athletic contests, and growing daily 
fonder of their swarthy, tawny companions. 

And all this was most fortunate because it served 
‘to make effective their frequent needed intercession 
:in behalf of their mother and devoted nurse, and 
induced a relaxation of the harsh and cruel treat- 
ment to which they were both at first subjected. 
The lot of those two unfortunate women was at best 
very hard indeed. 


HOW THE INDIAN CAPTIVES WERE RANSOMED. 2 77 

Indian squaws are “ the hewers of wood and 
drawers of water ” for their race. 

They have charge of the animals that go with 
hunting parties, and on which is loaded the meat 
destined for winter consumption. And they look 
out for the welfare of those ridden by the “Braves/’ 
when not in use. When the game is killed by the 
warriors the squaws skin it, cut it up, dry it and 
pack it on the pack ponies. 

They also erect such “ schacks ” or shelters as are 
used during bivouacs, gather all needed fuel, build 
fires, and do all the camp drudgery for their “noble 
lords and masters.” They erect the teepees of the 
permanent villages, care for the hordes of dogs, and 
assist the boys in herding the horses. 

Female captives are placed in charge of these 
squaws, and are either as much more cruelly mis- 
treated or kindly protected as women everywhere 
are capable of harsher or gentler treatment of their 
sex than men are. 

And thus it happened with our unfortunate cap- 
tives from the overland wagon train. 

The refined and delicate mother of the two golden- 
haired boys fared far worse than the colored nurse 
of the bonnie, wee baby sister, now in Mrs. Forster’s 
kindly care at Centipede Canyon. The poor, heart- 
sick, half-demented mother all the time was believ- 
ing and mourning her babe as dead. 

She had read of instances where the inhuman 
red men had killed little children in a most cruel 
manner, and the terrible idea possessed her that 
such had been the fate of her little one. 

Her mental suffering made her look as miserable, 
physically, as she felt in mind and heart, and this 
fact doubtless saved her from the very worst and 
most horrible fate to which these human fiends 
always subject female captives. 

She looked more like an uncanny, sickly ghost, than 
a living, human being. 


2yS 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


She had reason to thank God that she was the 
picture of death. 

For some time she suffered acutely from the 
rough treatment received at and immediately after 
the time of her capture. 

The pain from severe abrasions of the skin, and 
the numerous bruises she had sustained, kept sleep 
from her eyelids, and the subsequent cruel beatings 
she had received, from the old hag who was her 
custodian, after she arrived in the Indian village, 
made her life almost unendurable. 

Only the good care the children were receiving 
sustained her. 

She could do nothing, in her ignorance and illness, 
to suit the red woman placed over her, and frequent 
blows, some of which knocked her senseless, were 
the consequence. 

One day the old hag met with an accident that 
confined her to her “teepee,” and this, the good 
colored girl whose heart bled for her mistress’ suf- 
fering, said to herself, was her opportunity. 

Jointly they nursed the wounded parts of the sick 
Indian woman, and did all they could to relieve the 
pain, and provide what they had learned were tooth- 
some morsels for her, the colored girl doing the 
most menial part of the work, until recovery was 
effected. 

After this the old custodian was less cruel, and 
the captivity of the poor prisoners less hard to bear. 

Eight months had passed, the long and dreary 
winter village with its horrid noises, its vermin and 
noisome odors had been abandoned, and a summer 
camp, in a cotton-wood grove, on the banks of a 
broad, shallow river, had been, for some little time, 
established, when an Indian “brave ” told the nurse, 
whom recently, according to Indian rites, he had 
forcibly made his wife, that they were all going to 
be ransomed and would soon be free again and 
among their own people. 


HOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED. 2 7 $ 


Oh ! How their hearts did beat with gladness, at 
this news ! 

In less than a month thereafter, the entire party 
were safe among their friends. 

The children and nurse, during their captivity, had 
learned to speak the tribal dialect quite fluently. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

BERTHA LEARNS HOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED. 

The “Mushroom” towns at the western, always 
changing terminus of those trans-continental rail- 
roads, built by alert capitalists and speculators to 
more expeditiously connect the wide-awake enter- 
prise of the East with the great, fertile, but as yet 
untilled areas, and gold-boweled mountains, canons 
and streams of the Pacific slope, were, aside from 
their prospective, great commercial value, destined 
to be also useful as a potent factor to bring into 
greater, inter-dependent and closer social relations 
the people of the Orient, the Occident, and the inter- 
lying territory of our vast country. 

They were, in fact, the pioneer agent in that cause, 
on whose swift wings the law and order and love of 
liberty and justice of the old Continental States, and 
the wholesome lessons inculcated therefrom, were 
borne to the new denizens of that erstwhile home of 
semi-civilized “ greasers ” and savage beasts, and 
still more savage red men. 

Of what value would be the nuggets, rich dust and 
ingots of precious metal without a market ? And of 
what use the boundless agricultural domain, whose 
rich resources were supinely waiting to be conquered 
by the westward march of civilization, if the noble 


28 o 


MOULTRIE DE KALB* 


army of soil tillers of the East had not wended their 
way thitherward ? 

To the quiet, untraveled, and not curious person 
who has seen nothing under canvas more novel 
than a circus or menagerie and accompanying side- 
shows, but has, perchance, read of gypsy camps and 
bivouacs, these temporary railroad terminus towns 
would appear a sort of conglomeration of the two 
with numerous other heretofore unheard of features 
thrown in. They were made up principally of one- 
story, frail, frame buildings composed of light, port- 
able sections, easily jointed together, and, at the 
period herein written of, were largely furnished by 
Chicago manufacturers of ready-made houses. 

If the owner, however nomadic, had any luck 
whatever during the spring, summer and fall months, 
he would more than pay for his house several times 
over, for they were staunch enough, with care, to do 
service repeatedly at different points along the rail- 
road, unless disastrously fluked from their prairie 
moorings by a wild west tornado, or burned to the 
ground by accident or incendiarism, before wearing 
out. 

The railroad terminus was extended frequently 
from time to time, upon the completion of an addi- 
tional twenty miles of accepted track, and this new 
point was always the new site for the terminal town, 
the latest focus of attraction on the line, the centre 
of business bustle, the “jumping off place, ” the 
connecting link between railroad and wagon, and 
horseback travel. 

Here the immense caravans and overland wagon 
trains, from the remote west, would bivouac and 
load, or unload their freight. And here many herds 
of cattle, sheep and horses were received and 
shipped to eastern marts. 

Here also emigrants and settlers, en route for the 
as yet undeveloped territories, would disembark 
their teams and other effects from the cars, hitch up 
and strike out for their unknown, new homes in the 


HOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED. 28 1 

Wilderness. Here, or near by was usually a camp of 
regular soldiers, especially if the town was located 
on the lands of hostile Indians, or in the country 
liable to be raided by them. And here also was lo- 
cated, the commissariat for the small army of graders 
and track layers and other railroad employees, en- 
gaged in the construction and operation of the rail- 
road at that point. 

Frontiermen in shirt sleeves, top boots and som- 
breros, with the inevitable pistols and knife at their 
waist belts, mingled with swarthy Mexican freighters, 
cowboys, contractors, fakirs, frontier merchants and 
all kinds of blacklegs and adventurers of both sexes 
and all ages. 

Amid the busy hum and hurry of legitimate bus- 
iness, gambling, drinking and pistol firing, indulged in 
openly, seemed to be the leading occupations, es- 
pecially after dark. 

To kill a man, in one of such settlements, was not 
considered, under any circumstances, nearly as 
heinous as to steal his horse. 

The town that was the railroad terminus to which 
Moultrie had taken Bertha and her mother, was just 
such a place as herein described. 

It was built along one side of the railroad track 
and a company of soldiers was encamped on the 
other side. It was composed almost entirely of tents 
set on wooden frames, some new and neat looking, 
but most of them patched and very uncleanly. 
TJie railroad terminus had been but recently ad- 
vanced to this point. In fact several platform cars 
had been attached to their train at the last terminus, 
loaded with ready-made houses that had been taken 
down and were being moved to this new terminus, 
On reaching the depot, a rough, plank platform with 
a small frame building at one end, Moultrie was 
met by Sefior Ysleta and a keen-eyed, wiry little 
man who was introduced as one of the vigilance 
committee. 

He advised Moultrie to take his ladies to the hotel 


2%2 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


at once and as soon afterward as he could to give 
him an audience at the place to which Ysleta would 
conduct him. 

The hotel was a plain, uninviting-looking house, 
of the ready-made kind, and sat flat on the ground. 
Its exterior was really forbidding, but the ladies 
found the interior very cosy. 

Bertha’s eyes opened to their widest as they 
rested for a moment on Ysleta and his mysterious 
companion, and then she turned her face toward 
her husband, with an inquisitive look. 

He replied “ Very well ” to the stranger, gave her 
arm an assuring pressure, and followed the 
Mexican. 

On the way to the hotel, some five hundred yards 
further up the street, they passed two gambling 
dens, huge, soiled tents, crowded with players and 
lookers on, several of whom rushed to the doors to 
stare at them. 

In front of one of these dens was a sign, in black 
letters, announcing that the place was 

“ The Senate !” 

And the other had, hanging over the entrance, a 
much soiled, triangular cotton cloth transparency on 
which was inscribed 

“ Paradise Hall.” 

These places were constructed partly of boards, 
but mostly of canvas, offensively filthy and mud be- 
spattered. 

At the “ hotel ” Moultrie could secure but one 
room, so he was obliged to accept quarters for him- 
self, with Ysleta in the latter’s tent. His own not 
having as yet arrived. 

It would be two days, at the very earliest, before 
the wagon-train they were to accompany would start 
on its long, westward journey. 

Just as the little party was entering the office of 
the hotel a man was seen rushing out of one of these 
dens to the middle of the street from where he 
turned suddenly and ran toward them. 


HOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED. 


Several sharp reports of pistol shots, fired from 
the door of the saloon he had just left, so precipi- 
tately, startled everyone, and a motley crowd quickly 
gathered. 

The -ladies were hurried into the building and con- 
ducted to a place of comparative safety just in the 
nick of time. 

For they had scarcely crossed the doorsill when a 
ball from one of the pistols crashed into the doorcasing, 
with a ripping, rending sound, and buried itself, out of 
sight, in the soft wood. 

The man the shot was intended for rushed madly 
into the hotel and fell to the office floor, from loss of 
blood. 

“ Whoop, boys ! Here he is !” 

Shouted a ferocious looking fellow following 
closely on his heels, a smoking revolver in his bronzed 
and dirty hand. 

But, as he was about to discharge another charge 
into the prostrate body, Bertha sprang forward 
and, in commanding tones, cried, 

“Stop !” 

The man with the upraised pistol hesitated, and 
looked at her in unspeakable astonishment. Such 
courage, in one so frail and girlish, he had never 
seen before. He lowered his weapon and let the 
hammer down on the unexploded cap and then, 
looking at the hounded, wounded man said in a satis- 
fied tone, 

\ l All right Miss ! I reckon he’s played his last 
game anyhow ! Yes, he’s passed in his last chips, 
he’ll never make another shuffle on this yer yearth. 
He’ll make his next draw in hell!” and turning 
aside he faced and told his confederates, who were 
crowding after him, that their victim would “ vamose 
soon to the happy hunting ground.” And added they 
had better “ mount and git quick ” before the vigil- 
ance committee “woke up and got arter ’em.” 

“ Slope dern sudden or you’ll be swung!” he shouted. 
Then, rapid as a flash, the entire party rushed, 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


' 284 

pell-mell, over to “ Paradise Hall,” at once mounted 
•their ponies, tethered to the hitching posts in front, 
and rode off, at a hot gallop, across the trackless 
prairie, like mariners on a familiar sea where no com- 
pass was needed, yelling like triumphant Comanches. 
They were a bevy of really honest cowboys who 
had drank and gambled at this frontier railroad 
town with the man whose life Bertha had interceded 
to save. Through his sharp practice they had lost 
all their money. They were honest, devil-may-care 
fellows, of frontier ideas of ethics, law and religion, 
who worked hard, and ofttimes valorously for the life 
even of a Texas steer, in return for the small pay 
they received. And then they “ blew it in ” when- 
ever opportunity offered. And such a splendid 
opportunity as a terminal railroad, mushroom town, 
where everybody wore “ store clothes and there was 
a real hotel , was not often presented, and must not be 
“ left out.” 

“ Oh, no ! Such a chance for a good time kerns 
infrequent like in a life time with us,” said “ Puma 
Bill.” And “ Bull Neck Jones ” responded, “ Yar 
right, pard ! yar right, I reckon ! So we’ll go to the 
railroad city. And they went with the result just 
narrated. 

Some high words had followed when they dis- 
covered they had been cheated, and by a professional 
gambler too, and, suddenly, with looks that por- 
tended scant mercy, the exasperated losers drew 
their revolvers and proposed to instantly riddle him, 
as the quickest and surest way of revenging them- 
selves. 

But, while they were talking of reimbursing them- 
selves also by pillaging his person, he “ gave them 
the slip ” and rushed for the hotel, as narrated, hop- 
ing, hopelessly and unavailingly, to fall in with 
rescuing pals. 

Afterward, having finished the gambler’s earthly 
■career, these cowboys were too spry for the venge- 
ance of the vigilance committee of the town, and 


BOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED, 285 


were safely beyond their reach, fully several minutes 
before those generally prompt, but, on this occasion, 
dilatory conservators of the peace had donned their 
trusty rifles and other arms and equipments and 
sallied forth to arrest them. The cowboy, par ex- 
cellence , is one of nature’s true noblemen, fearless, 
reckless, generous, he believes in his God, his sweet- 
heart, wife, and mother. His mother is his ideal, 
his saint. But the average cowboy, under the spur 
of emergency, compares, favorably — or did in 1866 to- 
’72 — in celerity in getting out of danger’s path, es- 
pecially, supposed retributive justice, with the 
“ noble red man.” And it is a toss up which of the 
two is the better entitled to escape the clutches of 
arbitrary, hasty, frontier vengeance, dubbed law by 
ignoramuses of law. Even they — the average cow- 
boys are, as a class, honest and daring but not quite 
“ up to date ” as moral, God-loving men. An army 
surgeon, temporarily in the town, dressed the wounds 
of the gambler whose life Bertha had saved, and pro- 
nounced them very serious. She, after the reaction 
of the sudden, great excitement, grew pale and 
fainted. 

Tenderly, by rough frontiermen, she was carried 
to a little crib of a room and restored to conscious- 
ness by her devoted mamma. Moultrie had gone with 
Ysleta. Notwithstanding all this, Bertha, later on, 
joined her mother in nursing the stricken stranger. 
Seeking, in the kindness of her true heart, to re- 
lieve his suffering, as far as possible. 

And in this unselfish, generous act the true noble- 
ness of their respective characters was never sub- 
mitted to a more severe test, and never more fully 
proven. 

“ I knew him,” the wounded man added, with a nod 
in answer to her look of inquiry, “knew and served 
with him and under him in that and several other 
battles.” 

“ He was at one time my best friend, and I horn . 


286 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


ored and loved him. But I proved a wretch ! 
Listen.” 

“At Franklin he had a large sum of greenbacks 
on his person, which he had captured from a Yankee 
paymaster — a few days previous. 

“Very few, if any, in the command except myself 
knew of it. 

“ In a bantering way I demanded ‘ a divy *■ — a divi- 
sion of the sum, between us. 

“ He laughed me to scorn and said I never had 
had any property, but that his estate had been over- 
run and destroyed by both armies, and he would 
need it all to pay for damages. 

“It was the first time there had ever been any un- 
kind words between us, and I felt, more than lan- 
guage can tell, his stinging rebuke of what he styled 
‘my preposterous pretensions.’ 

“ Until that hour I had been devotedly attached to 
him, but after it my heart rankled with resentment. 
I nursed a feeling of bitter hatred and secretly re- 
solved to be revenged ; to have that Yankee money. 

“The opportunity came all too soon. 

“ The old love I had so faithfully borne him in the 
bygone had begun to revive and reassert itself, and I 
was finding self condemnation and excuses for what 
I had called his insufferable arrogance supplanting 
my ugliness of temper when we were precipitated 
into that terrible fight at Franklin. 

“As you doubtless must know, the fortunes of all 
Southerners at that particular period, were decidedly 
desperate, and cupidity whetted my appetite when I 
saw my victim, at midnight, prostrate, with serious 
wounds, at my side in an isolated spot. 

“ He was now helplessly in my power with a score 
of dead and dying comrades lying around him, and 
not only could I covertly kill him, but I could also 
possess myself of the, to me, small fortune he had 
secreted about his person. 

“ Villainy seldom seeks justification at the moment 


HOW HER FATHER WAS MURDERED. 287 

of temptation, or is, at best, satisfied with very little 
of it. A demon possessed me ! 

“ I argued that I had fought the battles of the 
South as valiantly as he, and was equally with him en- 
titled to this money, and that he, under cover of his 
superior rank, had given me a deadly insult for which 
his life’s blood alone could and should atone. These 
arguments quickly determined me to become both a 
thief and a murderer, and I killed and robbed my 
old-time friend ! Your father ! 

“That money never did me any good, for later on 
in Nashville, I lost most of it, in one night, at a game 
of cards, and sowed the seed that ultimately made 
me a professional gambler and an outcast, as you 
now see me. 

“ Steadily I have descended until the present mo- 
ment, when I have, perhaps, reached the lowest 
round of the infamous ladder. 

“Your father’s wounds — as I have given you to 
understand — rendered my cowardly work easy and 
safe of accomplishment, for he could not defend 
himself, and everyone would think he had been fairly 
killed in battle. In fact it had been so reported.” 

Here the wounded man, who had talked thus far 
at intervals, during intense suffering, went into a 
spasm', and his eyes grew glassy. 

f Moultrie gave him some brandy, but it did not 
revive him, and the doctor could not be found. 

Horror, grief and compassion surged in the breasts 
of the two terribly wronged women ! 

The next morning, just as the gates of dawn were 
opening, the self-confessed murderer’s soul winged its 
flight to eternal judgment. 

Folded in the pinions of hovering angels — letters 
of credit to the supreme Ruler on the Great White 
Throne — were the prayers of Bertha and her mother, 
pleading for his forgiveness. 


288 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

BERTHA MEETS THE MOTHER OF MRS. FORSTER’S 
ADOPTED CHILD. 

The next day, in the midst of the busy prepara- 
tions for departure, a neat-looking, plainly-dressed 
lady came to Bertha in the hotel breakfast room, 
and asked her if she was related to a Mr. De Kalb, 
who had gone to Colorado several years before, in an 
overland train that was attacked by Indians. 

Bertha was familiar with all the particulars of the 
occurrence, and so informed the lady. 

“There was an unfortunate mother and her two 
children captured by the savages at the time and 
killed,” she said. 

“ No, not killed, but ransomed later on after a 
horrible captivity,” 

Interjected the lady. 

“Is that true?” asked Bertha, all excitement. 

Where, in Heaven’s name, is the poor woman ? 
She left a young child, a beautiful little girl, I am 
told, who was adopted by my husband’s aunt, Mrs. 
Forster, and is now the loveliest little girl, from all ac- 
counts, at Centipede Canyon, where Mr. De Kalb 
lives !” 

A deathlike paleness overspread the features of 
the stranger, and she clutched Bertha’s chair, to 
keep from falling. 

“ Oh ! my God ! 

“ Oh, let me go to her at once ! My child ! My 
child !” 

Mrs. Poinsett, sad-faced, entered the room at this 
moment. She had just given orders for a decent 
interment of her husband’s murderer. 

She saw at once something unusual had occurred, 
and with the presence of mind high breeding always 


MRS. FORSTER'S ADOPTED CHILD. 289 

assures, placed a chair for the almost fainting, hys- 
terical strange lady, and assisted her to it. 

And meanwhile the latter sobbed, and wept tears of 
unspeakable joy, and breathed prayers of heartfelt 
thanksgiving to 

“ Him who doeth all things well." 

Bertha, whose tears also would come, told her 
mother of the singular and happy revelation. And 
Mrs. Poinsett, with her own heart “ bowed down by 
weight of woe," threw her arms around the stranger, 
and invited her to join them in their journey to 
Centipede Canyon, and reclaim her baby. “ We 
start for there to-morrow, come,” she added. 

“ It will be like tearing out her heart strings for 
Mrs. Forster to part with her," she said. 

“But the dear child is yours!” 

And, her countenance beamingwith affection, Mrs. 
Poinsett went over, and kissed Bertha three times. 

Bertha, an hour later, considerably excited, told 
Dinah what had occurred, and all that devoted 
servant could do and say was to raise her hands in 
amazement, roll her eyes skyward and exclaim : 

“ Oh, de bressed Lor’ ! De bressed good Lor’ !" 

The thoroughly happy mother, speaking of her 
experiences while a captive, said, 

“ Among the squaws I was left with, on the edge 
of the prairie, just outside the sand hills the day I 
was captured, was the wife of one of the head-chiefs 
who understood “ greaser Spanish," and while the 
warriors were away, watching the train, I told her 
about the large herds of horses owned by my hus- 
band and father, and offered her a handsome pres- 
ent, for herself, of many yards of scarlet strouaing,. 
many trinkets and strings of pretty beads, if she 
would induce my captors to take me where my 
ransom could be purchased. 

“ The squaw consented, and to her intervention I 
owe my life. 

u I thought they would surely kill me when some 
soldiers were passing, close by, who did not see us, 


290 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


and I could hardly resist screaming to them, in spite 
of myself. 

“ By the aid of friendly Indians my father was 
communicated with, and a heavy ransom for us cap- 
tives was demanded, coupled with threats of horrible 
torture and death if the terms of the savages were 
declined. 

“ After several months of frightful hardships we 
started on a long and tedious journey, to the Llano 
Estacado of Texas, and were surrendered to our anxi- 
ous relatives on payment of the price. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE GARRISON FEBRUARY 22D ; GALLANT PHIL. 

SHERIDAN THERE. 

It was a beautiful morning, Feb. 22d, when the 
Garrison at Fort Blank paraded for inspection. 

The sun, shining on the rich uniforms of the 
officers and soldiers, lent brilliancy to the occasion. 

There were white troops and colored troops there, 
and probably no better stud of horses was ever 
marshalled at any frontier garrison. 

Gallant little Phil. Sheridan, the idol of the Army, 
and commander-in-chief, was the especial object of 
respect. He was to review them. 

Deep down in the hearts of all these men was the 
greatest regard, esteem and love for that distin- 
guished chieftain. 

Therefore, in preparing for muster they had pol- 
ished their buttons with exceptional care, had put an 
extra finish on their boots, and had brushed their 
uniforms with scrupulous neatness, and their white 
gloves, and glistening carbines and sabres were with- 
out blemish, 


GALLANT PHIL. SHERIDAN THERE. 


29I 


Probably no troops of the regular army, serving 
on the western plains, had ever, at any time, ren- 
dered more efficient and successful service than had 
those stationed at that post that day. 

And there was another event that lent eclat to the 
occasion. And that was the presence of the pay- 
master. 

In those days the army was paid bi-monthly and 
the advent ^of the “ fully armed ” dispenser of Uncle 
Sam’s gold and silver certificates was always the signal 
for a rousing good time. 

Because pocket-books then became plethoric, and 
no one cared for expenses. 

The “ Officer of the Day ” and the “ Officer of 
the Guard,” the “Sergeant of the Guard,” and even 
the Corporals of Reliefs, and sentries, look with 
leniency upon soldiers who, on that day, toy too 
much with Gambranius and Bacchus. 

Yet, on this day, this memorable day, there was an 
utter absence of the usual excesses. 

Of course the united presence of the General-in- 
chief and the paymaster meant an added delight to 
such an extraordinary event. 

And great efforts were put forth to celebrate it. 

Fort Blank was considered one of the handsomest 
of all garrisons on the remote Plains. 

The house of the commanding officer was a large 
two-story building, the only one of masonry within 
six hundred miles, in any direction. It had cost a 
small fortune to build it. 

The quarters of the other officers were one story 
double stone cottages, with deep broad verandahs in 
front and rear, and beautiful lawns in front and at 
the sides. 

The club-room, at the post trader’s, had a single, 
old fashioned, elegant billiard table, and it had cost 
twice its original price to transport it to that then 
very far away region. 

The room was about forty feet by thirty, and sup- 


292 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


plied with five found tables with cards, dominoes and*: 
dice, and was handsomely carpeted. 

When not Used for billiards the billiard table was; 
given up' to pin-pool, a fascinating pastime, now 
out of' date. 

It is quite likely that there never was congregated; 
together in so small a community,, and amid such 
barbarous surroundings, more culture, beauty, refine- 
ment, and well-dressed people than were represented; 
in that little gathering of ladies, children and Army 
officers at that post. 

The Commander’s house, as stated, was two stories; 
high and a broad hall ten feet wide ran through the? 
centre from front to rear. 

On either side it was flanked by three spacious,, 
high-ceiled rooms, each of which opened out into, 
smaller rooms forming an ell on each side. 

Broad verandahs surrounded the house, and about 
seventy-five yards away floated' the garrison flag 
from its tall staff, in the middle of the parade 
ground. And every afternoon at five o’clock, which 
was the dinner hour for the officers and their fam- 
ilies, the regimental band assembled on a stand there-, 
and discoursed melodious instrumental rhythms,. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE PLAINS. 

On the morning of the day Moultrie and his 
party were guests at this garrison, first call for in- 
spection and review had sounded, and under their 
respective first sergeants the several companies were 
undergoing a preliminary inspection. 

Here and there officers, in twos and threes, were 
on their way across the parade ground to join their 
.several commands.- 


THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE PLAINS. 293 

It was an animating scene and one which, once 
witnessed by those unfamiliar with the same, would 
be sure not soon to be forgotten. 

The parade ground was covered with a closely 
mowed, thoroughly cleaned carpet of mesqait or 
‘‘buffalo ” grass, curly, thick, and of the richest hue 
of green. A variety of verdure not grown east of 
the Mississippi valley. 

No lawn in civilization could surpass it for beauty, 
and it was over this carpet, arrayed in their rich uni- 
forms and wearing the glittering implements of war, 
that these bronzed participants in more than one 
arduous Indian campaign, strolled leisurely toward 
their men. 

Before they reached them the first sergeants had 
called the roll and formed their companies. 

Second call sounded. The band proceeded to its 
appointed place, and to the stirring notes of an en- 
livening air the troops marched to their respective 
posts and formed in line of battle, on the parade 
ground. 

Then began the impressive formalities of a grand 
review by “ Little Phil ” Sheridan, the idol of the 
cavalry arm of the service. 

It was a lovely day, and the piazzas of the officer’s 
quarters were thronged with the ladies of the gar- 
rison and their citizen guests from the two adjacent 
small frontier settlements. 

“ The march off ” of the different commands after 
the parade was dismissed, was voted especially spec- 
tacular. 

The different companies, some in line and some in 
column, crossed and re-crossed each other in return- 
ing to their barracks, presenting, in their evolutions, 
an endless variety of beautiful colors and symmetri- 
cal, constantly varying forms. 

The officers were near the flagstaff grouped around 
their distinguished Commander engaged in lively 
conversation. 

In the large storehouse of the quartermaster’s 


294 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


department were piles of flags and bunting, and 
stacks of muskets and sabres, all highly polished, and 
as soon as the companies “broke ranks,” squads from 
each hurried thither, and under the supervision of a 
committee of officers, began the work of decorating, 
for there was to be a grand military ball that even- 
ing to which everyone of any consequence within 
fifty miles around — and several of no consequence — 
were invited. 

There were great pyramid-shaped chandeliers, 
made of inverted bayonets and mounting a hundred 
candles each, already suspended, at intervals, down 
the center of the vast room, and it was wonderful, 
and a grand tribute to the value of discipline, the 
promptness with which the walls were now being 
draped with the national colors, and festooned di- 
rectly and diagonally across, from side to side, with 
gracefully arranged interlacings of red, white and 
blue bunting, by the recently arrived squads from 
the several companies. 

In each corner, under prettily constructed cano- 
pies, were muskets in stacks, producing a pretty ef- 
fect, and the monotony of the walls was relieved, 
every now and then, by crossed sabres, and pictures 
of the battlefield that had made the chief guest of 
the occasion famous — Winchester. 

The hop was a pronounced success, and a novelty 
indeed, in every particular to Bertha. Even the 
dances were all of the old-fashioned, out-of-style sort 
in civilization. But that did not matter. It was the 
genuineness of the cordiality prevailing that en- 
tranced her. 

And now she found out, too, what Moultrie meant 
when in response to her curious questioning he had 
said playfully that “perhaps he had learned all the 
charming elegancies of his recent social intercourse, 
she so much liked, from ‘the aristocracy of the 
plains.’ ” He was too modest to arrogate that they 
were innate with him, and merely needed the provo- 
cation to draw them out. 


The aristcracy of the plains. 29$ 

Military formality charmed her. And she quickly 
discerned that the ceremonial courtesies of army of- 
ficers, officially, became in social commerce second 
nature to them. 

Was. inevitable in fact, if bravery and tenderness 
were inborn. 

In the several changes of station of troops after 
the recent Indian war, it fell to Hercules to be as- 
signed to this remote garrison. And Bertha was 
ever so glad to meet him and have a good, long, 
reminiscent talk. But strange to say, Mrs. Hercules 
and she disliked each other at first sight. 

And both Moultrie and Hercules to their chagrin 
saw it. 

On the following morning, after a late breakfast, 
Moultrie drove out of the garrison, at a brisk gait, 
taking the road the wagon train had started out on 
at daybreak. He was puzzled and hurt over the 
aversion of Mrs. Hercules and his wife for each 
other, but did not refer to it. 

It was not in his blood to be a cotquean. He 
could never have filled the bill as a reporter for a 
sorosis. So all he could do was to wonder and 
ponder and sigh over the matter. 

In a garrison, as everywhere else, people gossip 
and handle each other’s names, covertly and overtly, 
without gloves, and utter outrageous things about 
each other. 

Military people, in this particular, are neither a 
whit better nor a whit worse than all the rest of the 
multitudinous human herd. 

And the good people of this gay little garrison 
thought it very strange, indeed, that Hercules did 
not escort Moultrie at least a mile or two up the 
road, and made their comments to fit. 


296 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

MAGNIFICENT SCENERY — MIDNIGHT WOLF BATTLE — 
TERRIBLE PRAIRIE FIRE. 

After a tedious, dusty uneventful drive of twenty 
miles, the next day after the hop, the long lumber- 
ing wagon train, at about three P. M. went into camp, 
on a most picturesque spot, on the bank of a deep 
and narrow river. The ground sloped downward in 
every direction. 

In a long, gently undulating valley to the west- 
ward, nestled a beautiful little lake that looked like 
a huge silvery mirror, resting on a broad lap of 
green plush. 

A small, shady grove, at the upper end of the 
valley, looked very inviting, for, though a delight- 
ful breeze was blowing, the sun’s rays were uncom- 
fortably warm. 

Cacti, of all varieties, Spanish bayonets, sensitive 
plants and myriads ol wild flowers dotted the plain 
everywhere. 

Water fowl, in great flocks, floated hither and 
thither on the bosom of the lake or hovered and 
circled overhead, uttering their various cries, and 
numerous wild animals browsed on the succulent 
grass, carpeting its banks or rested on it, lazily. 
Ignorance of or indifference to impending danger 
seemed to pervade them all. 

“ The Garden of Eden !” exclaimed Mrs. Poinsett 
ecstatically ; looking, from her carriage, on the 
charming scene. 

“ Rather say the Garden of the Gods,” replied 
Moultrie, pleased at her pleasure, “ with the animal 
kingdom thrown in.” 

“ Get up and come out of there, you lazy little 
thing!” she continued, ignoring Moultrie and ad- 


MAGNIFICENT SCENERY. 


297 

dressing Bertha, who was reclining, in a very com- 
fortable position, inside, readinga novel, and sheltered 
from the sun by the awnings on either side, and 
with all the curtains rolled up, so that the breeze 
prevailing could be enjoyed to its fullest. 

“ Will Senora scan the beautiful valley through 
my glasses ?” said Ysleta, lifting his hat and hand- 
ing her his binocular. 

And Bertha adjusted the focus and cried 
“ Oh-h-h !” 

Then mother and daughter united in enthusiastic 
expressions of delight. 

Not a feature of the charming landscape and 
its inhabitants escaped them, and if such a thing 
threatened, at any moment because of lagging in- 
terest, Moultrie recalled their attention by pointing 
out some, as yet, undiscovered object of interest. 

Meanwhile the camera was unpacked and a number 
of different desirable negatives were secured. 

“ Those large white birds sailing around so grace- 
fully and indolently out there, in the middle of 
the lake, are swans, Trumpeter Swans,” said Ysleta. 
“ Shall I get you some ?” This to Bertha. 

“ Yes, please. You are awfully kind.” 

“ To-night, Senora. I will capture some to-night.” 

“ Is it the Garden of Eden or the Garden of the 
Gods, little one?” asked Moultrie, addressing 
his wife. 

“ Before you answer look again through the glasses 
at those mountains, stretching off beyond. Just 
three days after we enter that range, with good luck, 
we will, at noon, be at Centipede Canyon. 

“ It will take us three days from here to reach the 
foot hills.” 

“ What a grand view !” cried Bertha. “ Here, 
mamma, look !” 

“ I should call it the Garden of the Gods,” she 
said. And she handed Ysleta’s powerful field lenses 
to her mother. 

That night the Mexican with a selected party of 


298 


MOULTRIE BE KALB. 


fifteen, secured several swans and a goodly cargo of 
ducks, geese and other smaller but toothsome water- 
fowl. And it was very fortunate for all in that 
train that he had made Bertha that promise. 

About three A. M. they started on their return for 
camp, their horses heavily laden with the large catch 
of feathered game they had secured. 

“ Thar must ’a’ bin a fierce b’ar fight ahead,” said 
a short, stout, weather-beaten* veteran bull-whacker, 
who had been teaming on the Plains since the days of 
Brigham Young, after they had gone about a mile on 
their way. 

‘‘Just listen to them pesky coyotes! They’re a 
barkin’ wusser ’an I ever heerd. Reckon both b’ars 
got knocked out, an’ they’ve come in at the finish. 

“Jehosophat! Did you hear that now, Mr. Mexi- 
can ? Sounds like some one calling for help ! 

“ Thar, thar it is agin ! Golly !” 

Ysleta had heard. 

“ Forward, seflors!” he cried. “Load every barrel ! 
Winchester and pistol, every barrel ! And keep close 
together !” 

In less than ten minutes the party were in the 
midst of an immense pack of ravenous, howling 
wolves, emboldened to stand their ground by reason 
of their mere multitude. Their ferocity and temerity 
astounded even Ysleta, who was an old hunter of 
wild animals. 

Yet their cowardice as individuals saved these 
brave men from a terrible death. 

The waning moon shone with sufficient light to 
make everything near by dimly distinguishable. 

Those of the wolves foremost in the rush on 
Ysleta and his men, were quickly shot down before 
they could come close enough to fasten their hungry 
fangs in the flesh of their intended victims. 

And these were immediately pounced upon and 
devoured without ceremony by the others of the 
seemingly countless pack behind them, much after 


MAGNIFICENT SCENERY. 


* 99 


the fashion in vogue in Christian mercantile centers, 
among debtors and creditors when the former fail. 

“ Push on, sefiors !” shouted Ysleta, “and answer 
those shouts of distress we hear ahead !” 

And fifteen pairs of hearty lungs lent fifteen sten- 
torian voices all the bellows they had. 

All through the recent Indian war, troops and 
savages had alternately camped on the shores of this 
lake. 

As a consequence, piles of brushwood that had 
been collected for fuel, and could be easily converted 
into fagots, abounded everywhere. 

It really seemed providential at this moment. 

The wolves, maddened by the increasing smell of 
fresh blood spilled, had grown frantic. 

Ysleta, keen and quick in all things appertaining 
to prairie life, and schooled in a knowledge of these 
fierce yet cowardly animals, saw it. 

“ Gather this brushwood, make brands of some, and 
load yourselves with as much more as you are able 
to carry, and let me know as soon as you are 
equipped,” he said. 

Everyone obeyed with alacrity. 

“Now reload your guns and light your fire brands ! 
Are you ready ?” 

The lighted firebrands was the response. 

“ Then forward, and while you shoot with the right 
hand, with the left rush with the brand at every wolf 
in your way, and steer straight for the calls of dis- 
tress. And do not forget to use your voices! Yell 
like fury! Because the sound of the human voice 
is terrifying to these ferocious beasts. I never knew 
them so bold before.” 

No people are more expert in the manufacture of 
torches out of dry branches than the frontiermen of 
the remote west. They bundle them together with 
great dexterity and celerity, and in a moment, seem- 
ingly, have a fagot ready that will flame for some 
considerable time. 

Those prepared by Ysleta’s party had been com- 


MOULTRIE DE KALB; 


300 

pleted just in the nick of time, for, simultaneously 
with the lighting of them, a great rush was made by 
the maddened wolves, and both firebrands and re- 
volvers were immediately called into lively and vig- 
orous active service. 

In fact, had it not been for the torches, every man 
of the party would have been torn literally into 
shreds, and devoured. 

People in civilization who have seen a mad dog 
can form a faint conception of what one infuriated 
wolf looks and acts like. And all that such people 
have to do is to picture five hundred mad dogs rush- 
ing to devour them, if they would portray the scene 
here faintly described. 

The flaming flambeaux lit up the scene weirdly, 
and gave hideous and grotesque shapes to every- 
thing around. The blazing eyes and frothing mouths 
and the howling and savage barking of the agile 
enemy, the rapid crack, crack, crack of firearms, and 
the imminent peril all were in, cannot be, with 
graphic fullness, adequately delineated. 

But onward the little party went, sometimes actu- 
ally running their fagots into the open jaws of in- 
truding wolves in their pathway, until finally they 
reached those they had started out to rescue, and 
whose repeated cries for succor had guided them to 
the spot. 

“Yes, after your first shot the infernal four-legged 
demons left us like a receding ocean wave, and then 
we discovered we had some ammunition left in our 
saddle pockets that under the excitement we had 
overlooked. 

“Well, we got it out, loaded all around, and put 
what was left in our waist belts. 

“ But in proportion as you rfiring increased the 
wolves turned away from us. 

“ I cannot tell you how grateful we are for your 
opportune arrival. Fleshless bones, I fear, would 
have been the only monument to our presence here, 
if you had not come. 


MAGNIFICENT SCENERY. 


30 1 

“We belong to a party of British army officers 
who came over to America for a buffalo hunt, and 
in a chase after antelope yesterday, got lost from 
our people. Lord Cavendish here was wounded by 
accident, a premature explosion of a cartridge, and 
we attempted a bivouac on this spot. The result 
you know. Again let me thank you for your gallant 
services.” 

The wolves, either panic-stricken at the fire-brands 
or satiated with the meal made off the carcases of 
their comrades that had been shot, had stampeded 
out of sight, and on Ysleta’s courteous invitation 
the Englishmen accompanied his party back to camp, 
which they reached in a few minutes. 

****** 

A long, lurid streak lying low against the southern 
horizon, and a strong southerly breeze, attracted 
Ysleta’s attention. 

The camp was wrapped in deep slumber, not a soul 
being awake except the various sentinels on post, 
and the herders out among the grazing animals. 

The Mexican enjoined silence and then listened 
with all his power. He pressed one ear to the earth 
and closed the other with the end of the rich scarf 
he habitually wore about his waist. 

When he rose to his feet his face was blanched, 
and he bade the men unload their animals, and after 
tying them to the wagons as quickly as possible, wet 
their blankets and report to him at the tent of the 
lieutenant in command of the train military escort. 
He then hastened to that officer, roused him from 
his deep sleep, and in a few moments told him of the 
terrible danger that threatened. 

By this time the whole southern horizon was a 
raging, dancing flame. And a deep, ominous roar 
was distinctly audible. 

Bertha, Mrs. Poinsett and Moultrie slept on in 


302 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


blissful oblivion of all that was passing and all that 
was threatening and so near at hand. 

Very quickly the soldiers and trainmen were 
aroused and formed into a strong skirmish line some 
distance outside the train, armed with thoroughly 
wet blankets and gunny sacks, and the cattle and 
horses were driven inside the corral and tied se- 
curely. 

Then Ysleta and the officer with blazing brands 
fired the prairie here and there beyond the line of 
men, and the dead grass, under the green blades so 
nutritious to the animals, at once sprang into fierce 
flames. 

The skirmishers fought its spread inward, with 
perfect success, and soon a mad, leaping, hissing 
wall of fire was moving rapidly outward to battle 
with the oncoming terrific line approaching in swift 
billows from the south. 

Wider and wider it spread and further away it re- 
ceded, until it became indistinguishable from the 
other awful oncoming conflagration that was rush- 
ing so appallingly and rapidly nearer. 

Then, between the two lines were discerned thou- 
sands of advancing forms of various sizes and shapes, 
and as they came nearer and nearer the receding arc 
of fire, they were seen to open out to the right and 
left as if bent on passing around it. Many in doing 
so fell, and were trampled to death by the others. 

The near proximity of that lake, and the river, on 
the bank of which the wagon train was camped, 
proved a godsend to the survivors, for those advanc- 
ing forms were — Buffalo, Elks, Antelope, Jack rab- 
bits and wolves, all mixed up in a heterogeneous 
multitude, all terror-stricken and fleeing for life. 

Once over the river, or in the cool waters of the 
shallow lake, and they were safe. 

Standing on the top of a wagon, loaded high with 
boxes of merchandise, Ysleta, the young Lieutenant 
and the British gentlemen, through their powerful 
glasses, viewed the scene. 


MAGNIFICENT SCENERY. 


303 


While doing so day broke and Moultrie joined 
them. 

So quietly had the work in the camp, described, 
been done, that neither Bertha nor her mother had 
been awakened. 

“ In all my experience, Sefior, I have never wit- 
nessed anything so terribly appalling yet grand as 
this,” said Ysleta, addressing Moultrie. “ It is a 
scene of a lifetime. Perhaps the Seftoras would 
enjoy it.” 

“Certainly!” responded Moultrie, and he pro- 
ceeded forthwith to awaken them. 

To say that they were amazed, terrified, and awed 
at what they beheld, would but faintly express the 
impression made upon them. 

There were thousands upon thousands of Buffaloes, 
in that motley and almost endless herd of prairie 
animals, that fled, in headlong and panic-stricken 
career, before those merciless billows of hotly pur- 
suing flame that consumed everything in their path. 

The wind was now blowing a perfect gale from the 
southwest, and the line of fire started at the camp 
had as a consequence spread rapidly toward the west 
but had made but little headway toward the east. 

While scores upon scores of the fearfully suffering 
animals fell exhausted, and were burned alive, within 
sight of the river they were so vainly endeavoring to 
reach, and which proved the salvation of their more 
fortunate fellows, most of those that did escape 
eventually, bore around the east and short end of the 
fire line in their front, and having passed it took 
more room, scattered, and realizing they were out of 
danger, slackened their former mad gait, many of 
them coming down to a walk. 

Some passed so close to the train that the very 
expression of their faces could be plainly read. 

But others were still so terror-stricken and beside 
themselves with affright, that their staring eyes, and 
the almost human like agony depicted upon their 
countenances, made one think of what must have 


304 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


been the appearance of those lost souls ferried over 
the rivers Styx and Acheron, by Charon, as they 
first beheld the horrors of Hades. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

FATTY FINANCIALLY IN THE SWIM MARRIES MISS 
SWIMM. 

The rest of the journey to Centipede Canyon was 
uneventful, and even tedious, at times, to the ladies, 
after its first novelty wore off. 

To be sure the idea of transporting water, for miles, 
in huge kegs, suspended under mammoth wagons, 
and the drinking out of canteens and flasks, directly 
from their mouths, and eating their meals from a 
folding table, spread under a canvas awning, and on 
grass, dotted profusely, everywhere, with beautiful 
wild flowers, was entirely new to them, as was also 
the crossing of streams by fords, instead of over 
bridges. 

Sitting on camp stools, beside the camp-fire, dur- 
ing the evening, and listening to Sefior Ysleta narrat- 
ing various adventures, ripe with rare interest, and 
suggested by some occurrence of the day or evoked 
by some passing question — this experience, as well as 
the gathering of wild flowers and making fops of 
Moultrie and the Sefior, by compelling them to wear 
button-hole bouquets, gave zest to her enjoyment 
and also afforded pleasing occupation for Bertha. 

But, sleeping in a carriage, transformed into a 
cosy boudoir, on a stormy night, and securely pro- 
tected from the howling blasts and madly beating 
rain, and seeing that carriage the next morning 
metamorphosed into a cosy breakfast room, for two, 
and then afterward changed back again, with quick 


FATTY FINANCIALLY IN THE SWIM. 30$ 

facility into its original shape, as an exceedingly 
comfortable vehicle — all this capped the climax, and 
somehow Bertha every now and then had to call 
Moultrie — when everyone else in the train was busy 
— out in the rain — getting ready to start, and had no 
time to look, and give him just one little squeeze,, 
accompanied by the tiniest sort of a squeal and a. 
long, clinging kiss. 

Time brought promotion to Hercules. And, with 
his increased rank was multiplied the number of 
Juniors interested in him, and who would be bene- 
fited by the elimination of his name from the Army 
register. 

There were Colonels’ sons and nephews, and 
Generals’ sons and nephews, and sons-in-law of Col- 
onels and Generals, and nephews of Colonels’ and 
Generals’ wives, and husbands of Colonels’ and Gen- 
erals’ nieces, all anxiously wishing, and waiting, and 
pulling their wires for promotion, as well as many 
others who were in no way related to Colonels or 
Generals. 

And if history does not lie, and facts are not fic- 
tion, the odds were pretty generally in favor of the 
relatives aforesaid, when vacancies occurred that 
permitted promotions out of the fixed routine. 

But, if any General or Colonel, with relatives in 
the line of routine advancement, saw fit to encour- 
age steps looking to the creation of vacancies that 
would “ boost ” such relatives, it is highly probable 
that the “ boosts ” would result. 

No man knew this better than Blondin. 

And a more persistent and unscrupulous ally, when 
her own family was to be benefited, than petite Mrs. 
Gabbler, it would be hard for a man, of his motives 
and mettle, to find. 

Hercules felt very little joy over his promotion. 

His wife had grown quite shy of ladies’ society, 
seldom visited those of the garrison, for whom they 
both expressed high regard, and was frequently sur- 
prised by him in mysterious, confidential converse 


30 6 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


with Mrs. Gabbler, the disturbing of which seemed 
to annoy her very much. 

“ What conspiracies are you two hatching ?” he 
would say, pleasantly enough. 

And when her petite friend would go, Mrs. Her- 
cules would accuse him of all manner of things, and 
drive him to despair, or the club-room. 

Matters went on this way, going from bad to 
worse as time advanced, and Hercules protracted 
each of his increasing number of visits at that gam- 
ing and drinking resort. 

His wife, first lukewarm, grew utterly indifferent 
and finally shunned him. 

“ No woman should be a wife,” he said to her, 
one Sunday morning as he was dressing for inspec- 
tion, 

“ Who does not feel honored by her husband’s 
love.” 

“Well, then, you had better get a divorce !” she 
replied, acridly. 

So he left the house, much excited, and feeling 
somewhat bullied. 

If he had seen any evidences of suffering in her 
face, as the result of their growing estrangement, he 
would have felt that he was all and alone to blame. 

“ But no,” he would say. “To quarrel is meat to 
her, and, like her otherwise excellent mother, she 
can’t be happy unless she has some one to brow- 
beat and cook.” 

Hercules, after this, was less at home, and more 
at the club, than ever. And at the latter place his 
forced exile from his own home and fireside, grown 
uninviting and frigid to him, and the constant sour 
visage of his wife, when not gossiping with Mrs. 
Gabbler and other visitors, made his moods more 
and more morose or cynically disputatious. 

Had Mrs. Hercules amiably buried the hatchet 
and shown any of those nice little feminine atten- 
tions to his comfort, all might have been happily 
mended. But that she would not do. So Hercules 


FATTY FINANCIALLY IN THE SWIM. 30 7 


went on, ignored or belittled where he should have 
been wooed, and cherished, championed and exalted. 
Went on, heart-sore, to his impending fate. Poor 
Hercules ! 

The sun shone brightly in his face as he, faith- 
fully and with painstaking, drilled his troopers from 
day to day, but no ray lit up his aching heart. It 
was all cloudy and dismal there. 

Meanwhile Blondin and the Gabblers were not 
idle nor without willing and secret allies, sowing the 
seed of discord and disaster that yielded their har- 
vest later on. 

The storm was brewing that was soon to break 
and overwhelm Hercules. 

And the partner of his bosom, with blind fatuity, 
was helping it on. 

***** 

Professor Cheval, as a shining light in the lower 
house of Congress, met many of his old pupils, who 
had seceded from the college secret societies, and 
now held positions of high trust. They had stoutly 
aided in suppressing hazing and establishing the 
college in its subsequent successful career. 

It is needless to say that they became coadjutors 
in the advancement of more than one wise measure 
for the benefit of the people, and frequent reunions 
among them occurred. 

It will be remembered that the lady, at the rail- 
road terminus, whose baby girl at the time of her 
capture by the Indians had been adopted by Mrs. 
Forster, took passage for Centipede Canyon with 
Moultrie’s party, on the invitation of Bertha. 

It was like tearing her heart strings out for Mrs. 
Forster to part with the little darling, who had grown 
to be so winsome, beautiful and affectionate, and in 
deference to the feelings of the adopted mother the 
real mother tarried at the Canyon many months. 
And fortune smiled on both, for Moultrie’s 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


308 

uncle and Mrs. Poinsett, no doubt influenced by the 
quickness with which desert places out in that far 
West sprang into cities, in a short time entered into 
an agreement whereby the uncle became Moultrie’s 
father, according to good sound law, and Bertha 
became niece to her own mother. 

And this marriage created a vacancy in the hotel 
management which was given, promptly, to the hus- 
band of the real mother of the baby aforesaid, which 
of course kept her foster mother and baby to- 
gether. 

Mention here of the connubial bliss of Fatty For- 
bush and Miss Swimm, should be made, and P'atty’s 
tribulations and trials with the boisterous and de- 
fiant, self-willed little twins, with bullet-shaped heads 
— spherical bullets — that he walked the floor with, 
at that ghostly hour that divides two days, clad in a 
long, flowing, ample and befrilled night robe, and 
looking all the world like a spectral monk of med- 
ieval times and of high living and full habit. 

After several years of most remarkable prosper- 
ity, in which time he had amassed a large fortune 
and had done much material good, here and there, 
for his fellow men, Moultrie had retired from active 
business. He had enriched Cedar-Crest College by 
a handsome endowment, when it was sadly in need 
of financial help, and in return that institution had 
conferred on him the degree of Master of Arts. 
For awhile he had managed a powerful lobby at 
Washington, in the interests of territorial develop- 
ment, but, as partisan politics, which was not to his 
liking, thrust itself to the front, he soon tired of this 
and removed to New York City where, with his 
beautiful wife and three sweet-faced children, he 
became a permanent resident. 

Under his example and guidance, Fatty also 
struck the key-note of success and developed into a 
sterling, highly-respected and successful business 
man. 

At the time he offered Miss Swimm his heart apd 


THE FATE OF GABBLER AND BLONDIN. 309 


hand, he had several irons, all at a white heat, in the 
fire. He owned a newspaper, ably edited and pros- 
perous, and an abattoir, with numerous refrigerator 
cars, and shipped frozen meats and hides, as well as 
peltry, in large quantities, to eastern and northern 
markets. 

He also conducted a joint store and hotel, and was 
building an opera house, at Centipede Canyon, which 
had become a busy, bustling and important railway 
junction. 

Last but not least, he was also the possessor of 
three profitable farms that were being worked, on 
shares, by enterprising and practical farmers. 

But Fatty could never be happy without doing 
something out of the ordinary, so he tacked on his 
business letters and bill heads, “ Detur Digniori .” 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE FATE OF GABBLER AND BLONDIN, AND THE 
FORTUNE OF HERCULES. 

Hercules stood over the grave of his mother. 
He was alone in that quiet city of the dead. The 
dark lines under his sunken eyes, the drawn corners 
of his mouth and the look of woe in his face, por- 
trayed his silent suffering. 

Putting his hand on the headstone and looking 
sorrowfully down on the neglected sod, his lips 
moved. 

“ Thank God !” he said, “ you did not live to know. 
But if health is vouchsafed me I will live and work 
and win. I will live to atone and punish.” 

Then he turned and walked sadly down the road 
and through the gate, out into the living world. 


3 x o 


MOULTRIE KE KALB. 


On the way he met two funerals, and as each passed 
he halted and lifted his hat. He did not know that 
in both of those solemn corteges, in carriages with 
half-drawn curtains, were those who knew and had 
recognized him. He had not seen them. 

Blondin had at last triumphed, and Hercules had 
been dismissed from the army. His enemies had 
been mean and despicable, but no one of them had 
been big enough to be a villain and give him a 
chance at him. 

By contemptible, underhand machinations, his 
seeming ruin had been wrought, but it proved the 
opposite. His supposed disaster proved an eventual 
godsend. 

“ Who is that distinguished looking young man ? 
You seem to know him,” said an elderly lady, in one 
of the carriages, to her white-haired husband. 

“ Well, I’m puzzled,” was the response. “ If I 
did not know he was out on the plains eating Indians 
and killing or capturing buffaloes and antelopes I’d 
believe it was young Hercules, son of my old law 
partner. You remember my old partner, secretary 
of legation at Blank, don’t you ?” 

“ Why, certainly ! Didn’t he and you graduate at 

Y at the same time, and then start a little grocery. 

How disgusted I was until you both became, as the 
Britishers put it, “ briefless barristers.” 

“ Ah ! Thereby hangs a tale, my dear. I never 
told you, and I will be brief. I never like long tales, 
especially on horses, on muddy streets or during 
rainy weather. Old Hercules and I were of rich but 
respectable parentage. That is our dads were rich 
when, as blooming and immensely wise freshmen, we 

entered Y . But their wealth had taken w r ings 

before we graduated. And we realized we were not 
as sapient then as when we were freshmen. Re- 
freshing realization, wasn’t it ? But Lycurgus and 
Solon were our gods, and the law, we determined, 
should be our destiny. But, like the skillful general 
who maneuvered his matchless alignments over 


THE FATE OF GABBLER AND BLONDIN. 31 1 

broken topography, and had to encounter obstacles, 
we had to overcome difficulty, and that difficulty 
was lack of cash. “ Money makes the mare go.” So, 
with what little our daddies could rake and scrape to- 
gether, we started and ran a grocery, to pay current 
expenses, and meanwhile buckled down to hard 
study; and there you are.” Then, with a far-away, 
absent look, the old gentleman passed his horrid 
snuff box to his better half. 

Hercules had never gambled, although he had 
often looked on, interestedly, during exciting games 
of poker, among his brother officers. 

Three years before he had loaned one hundred 
dollars to one of them, who desired to raise the 
bet, and it had never been returned. He walked the 
three miles from the cemetery to his obscure lodgings 
and wrote a dignified but plainly worded letter, tell- 
ing how he had pawned all his valuables, even to his 
overcoat, and plainly stated his financial distress. 
Then he took up the morning paper and read, care- 
fully, the want advertisements. He had never read 
them before. And not a line of news did he read that 
day. He treated the evening paper and its “ Extras,” 
the same way. And, after dark, he went out to a little 
restaurant and bought a dinner for twenty cents. 
And this experience was only the vanguard of a 
long train that followed, each of which was a revela- 
tion. And all of which amplified his mind and fitted 
him for the responsible duties toward himself and 
his fellow men he was called on to discharge later 
on. How he did thank God then that he had been 
delivered from a lifetime bondage in the narrow 
rut of an isolated profession that would have warped 
his intelligence to a moiety of knowledge of his 
fellow-men, their pursuits, needs and predilections. 

Nevertheless he felt most keenly what he considered 
to be his grievously unjust humiliation. He would 
not think of it as a disgrace, because he had neither 
committed nor been charged with a crime. And he 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


312 

thought that his resignation should have been ac- 
cepted, when he had tendered it. 

But he very sensibly and determinedly dismissed 
his bitter retrospections, regrets and heartburnings, 
and resolutely essayed to at once and thoroughly 
explore all the avenues and alleys of throbbing life, 
denizened by his fellow mortals, and learn what he 
could of their pursuits and fancies, their drifts and 
ambitions. 

Herculean task, of course, but one which seriously 
and properly undertaken and perseveringly pushed 
would yield profitable issue. 

To feel their pulse, have friendly friction with 
them, and build up for himself an honorable congen- 
iality among those worth it — that was his aim and 
purpose. And he succeeded beyond his brightest 
anticipations. 

He was a born aristocrat, and had no mock mod- 
esty, no false pretension, no stage airs and tinsel in 
his makeup. But bravely meeting current needs he 
cheerfully undertook every task, however humble, 
that presented, and rapidly ripened his experience 
thereby. 

His trials, and struggles, and disappointments, and 
petty reverses were many. But he never halted. 

His few leisure hours, early or late, were given to 
his law study. To earn his daily bread he worked as 
a night watchman, with ignorant, coarse and egotis- 
tical companions, good hearted withal, whose highest 
ambition was to be known as the oldest of the night 
force employed by the corporation. 

Also as a book agent, a newspaper reporter and 
afterward editor, a theatrical advance press agent, an 
instructor in military tactics and calisthenics, a sword 
master, a steamboat agent, a mercantile reporter and 
a hotel clerk. 

In these occupations he earned the wherewithal 
with which to pay his living expenses and those at- 
tending his study of the law, which he pursued with 
unfaltering, untiring diligence. 


*the fate of gabbler and blondin. 313 


And in these occupations he came in close touch 
with all manner of men. But nothing diverted him. 

Steadfastly through all he applied himself to his 
law tomes, at every opportunity, 

****** 

Several years later on a serious and formidable 
Indian war was waging. A score of tribes were on 
the warpath. White settlements, in some of the new 
territories, were driven back a hundred miles and 
“ the westward march of the star of empire ” had 
been greatly retarded. At last a truce and the sus- 
pension of hostilities was agreed on, and a peace 
commission, with full power to treat, and followed 
by an immense, “ overland wagon train,” laden “ to 
the bows ” with presents for the savages, was 
en route to the appointed rendezvous for a great and 
final “ pow wow.” 

The late Major, now Colonel Blondin, was in com- 
mand of the picturesque grand council camp, or to 
speak more accurately, he commanded the military 
contingent of the camp, and imagined he was vested 
with supreme authority and was the most important 
personage among those assembled there. 

Meantime super-officious, petite Madame Gabbler, 
who had “ sowed the winds,” was now “ reaping the 
^whirlwinds.” 

And a large and robust harvest of whirlwinds, too, 
that ruthlessly swept hope from her selfish, plotting, 
scheming heart, and deluged her with painful mis- 
givings. 

Accidents and counter intrigue had checkmated 
her at last, and multifarious defeats and the defec- 
tion of former mischief-brewing allies had been the 
potent factors evolving that result. 

Her inner rottenness was at last laid bare, her 
hypocrisy made naked, and her best laid schemes all 
went aglee. 

Her husband had finally reached the goal she had 


3H 


MOULTRIE DE KALB. 


so ardently and impatiently longed for, and so un- 
scrupulously planned and devised and battled for. 

The needed number of vacancies had at last oc- 
curred, and he was now, prospectively, a full-fledged 
“ el capitaine” a troop commander-in-chief with two 
bars “ on his right royal shoulder.” 

Mrs. G. was delighted beyond expression — words 
are inadequate. She grew gushy — very. 

And, to her particular pets and confidants, she 
told how, as soon as his appointment arrived , she in- 
tended to “make it awful warm for some people.” 

But a tremendous freshet was prevailing. Resist- 
less floods and torrents were swiftly sweeping every- 
thing away, making new rivers and river-beds, broad, 
impassable stretches of foam-caped lakes, and chang- 
ing the topography of the country everywhere. 
Only hills that were rock-ribbed, withstood the 
awful tempest, the tornado and cyclone, and the 
never ceasing downpour of the deluge of rain, sleet 
and snow. Houses there were none. But trees 
“built on sand ” disappeared forever, as did the sand- 
hills that had stood for ages, and on which the an- 
cestors of those forest monarchs had been born. It 
was several hundred miles from Lieutenant G.’s gar- 
rison to the nearest railroad, and, even during a 
severe storm of a single day, dry creeks became im- 
passable, swift-flowing, boiling, seething torrents. 
But now there was prevailing a combined tornado 
and freshet with bitter cold weather, of a fortnight. 
And all the brawny red men of the several tribes 
throughout that whole territory were hot on the war- 
path. 

At last the storm abated, the floods receded and 
the mails were resumed. One morning Lieutenant 
G. died. The next his appointment as captain came. 

But Mrs. G. could not sign and accept it for him . 
And how she had boasted when the vacancy had 
occurred. 

“ Now my husband will wear two bars !” She 
gave no thought to the desolate, weeping widow and 


The fate of gabbler and blondin. 315 

orphans of the dead captain whose death had caused 
the vacancy. 

Not she. 

When Hercules finally became partner at law with 
his father’s old law partner, he wrote his wife an af- 
fectionate letter, pleading for her to “ come back.” 
But, if the letter was answered, not ignored, it was 
“ the letter that never came.” 

Judge of Colonel Blondin’s amazement, we may 
say chagrin, when, on the arrival of the Peace Com- 
mission at the garrison he commanded, and which 
was to treat with the Indians for a cessation of hos- 
tilities — judge of his unspeakable surprise when, on 
being referred for instructions to the Chairman of 
that Commission, he came face to face with his former 
victim, Hercules. How he did wilt! The bulldoz- 
ing strut and swagger that had marked his approach 
to that official’s headquarters did not appear when 
he retired therefrom. And the most galling part of 
the interview, to him, was the mock condescension 
of Hercules, and his pretended, palpably pretended, 
deference to the pompously delivered suggestions of 
the Colonel, towards whom he acted as though he 
had never before seen or heard of him. 

How incensed the gallant Colonel was ! 

And how confounded and dumbfounded when, 
two years after a successful treaty of peace had been 
negotiated, he found his application for promotion 
had been held up, if not positively denied, because 
of the reasons set forth, cogently, in the protest of 
the Military Committee of the House of Represent- 
atives of Congress, of which Hercules was a mem- 
ber. That protest served to settle, for all time, any 
further advancement for him, and effectually de- 
stroyed his power to further persecute his sub- 
ordinate. 


THE END. 




THIS LIST EMBRACES NEARLY 

FIVE HUNDRED AMERICAN 
COPYRIGHT BOOKS. 

BY THE BEST AND MOST POPULAR AUTHORS . 


All handsomely bound In cloth, with gilt 
backs, suitable for libraries. 


The Publisher s, on receipt of price , will send any book tt* 
this Catalogue by mail \ postage free . 


G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers, 


33 WEST 23d STREET. 


NEW YORK. 


A 

4 


G. IV. DILLINGHAM CO.'S. PUBLICATIONS. 


Mary J. Holmes’ Novels. 

Mrs. Holmes* stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. She is im 
'Jmy respects without a rival in the world of fiction. Her characters are always life- 
like, and she makes them talk and act like human beings, subject to the same emotions, 
swayed by the same passions, and actuated by the same motives which are common among 
men and women of everyday existence.” 


Tempest and Sunshine $i 50 

English Orphans 1 50 

Homestead on the Hillside. 1 50 

'Lena Rivers 1 50 

Meadow Brook. .. 150 

Dora Deane 1 50 

Cousin Maude 1 50 

Marian Grey , 0 „ . . . . 1 50 

Edith Lyle 1 50 

Daisy Thornton I 50 

Chateau D’Or 1 50 

Queen ie Hetherton 1 50 

Bessie’s Fortune 150 

Marguerite 1 50 


Mrs. Hallam’s Companion .. .1 50 


Darkness and Daylight $x 50 

Hugh Worthington 1 50 

Cameron Pride 1 50 

Rose Mather , . . 1 50 

Ethelyn’s Mistake 1 50 

Millbank 1 50 

Edna Browning 1 50 

West Lawn 1 50 

Mildred 1 50 

Forrest House 1 50 

Madeline 1 50 

Christmas Stories 1 50 

Gretchen 1 50 

Dr. Hathern’s Daughters. . . 1 50 

Paul Ralston {New) 1 50 


May Agnes Fleming’s Novels. 

# “ Mrs. Fleming’s stories are growing more and more popular every day. Tb'fir delin* 
nations of character, lifelike conversations, flashes of wit, constantly varyinar scenes, an# 
deeply interesting plots, combine to place their author in the very first rank ef Modern 
Novelists.” 

■0 


Guy Earlscourt’s Wife. . . 

...$i 50 

A Wonderful Woman . . . 

. . . 1 50 

A Terrible Secret 


A Mad Marriage 


Norine’s Revenge 


One Night’s Mystery. . . . 

... 1 50 

Kate Danton 


Gilent and True 

... 1 50 

Maude Percy’s Secret . . . 

... 1 50 

The Midnight Queen 

... 1 50 


Edith Pcrcival 


1 5 °_ 


Heir of Charlton $1 50 

Carried by Storm 1 50 

Lost for a Woman 1 50 

A Wife’s Tragedy 1 50 

A Changed Heart 1 50 

Pride and Passion 1 50 

Sharing Her Crime 1 50 

A Wronged Wife 1 50 

The Actress’ Daughter a 50 

The Queen of the Isle % 50 

Wedded for Pique {New).. . 1 50 


G. W. DILLINGHAM CO.'S. PUBLICATIONS, 


3 


Augusta J. Evans’ Novels. 


“Who has not read with rare delight the novels of Augusta Evans? Her strange, 
wonderful, and fascinating style; the profound depths to which she sinks the probe into 
human nature, touching its most sacred chords and springs ; the intense interest thrown 
around her characters, and the very marked peculiarities of her principal figures, conspire 
to give an unusual interest to the works of this eminent Southern authoress.” 


Beulah. 
Macaria 
Inez. . . . 


Si 75 
i 75 
i 75 


St. Elmo. . 
Vashti. . . . 
Infelice. . . 


At the Mercy of Tiberius.. ..200 


$2 00 
2 00 
2 00 


ST. ELMO, Magnolia Edition, 2 vols. 8 vo„ Magnificently Illustrated 
with 30 Photogravure and Half-tone Engravings. Per set, $6.00. 


Julie P. Smith’s Novels. 


“ The novels by this author are of unusual merit, uncommonly well written, clever 
and characterized by great wit and vivacity. They are growing popular and more popular 
every day.” 


Widow Goldsmith’s Daugh- 


ter $1 50 

Chris and Otho 1 50 

Ten Old Maids 1 50 

Lucy 1 50 

His Young Wife 1 50 


The Widower 

The Married Belle. . . . 
Courting and Farming 
Kiss and Be Friends. . • 
Blossom Bud 


$1 5° 

1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 


Marion Harland’s Novels. 


“ The Novels of Marion Harland are of surpassing excellence. By intrinsic power 
^ f character-drawing and descriptive facility, they hold the reader’s attention with tb 
taost intense interest and fascination.” 


Alone $>1 50 

Hidden Path 1 50 

Moss Side 1 50 

Nemesis 15° 

Miriam 1 50 

Sunny Bank 1 50 

Ruby’s Husband 1 50 

At Last I to 


My Little Love $1 5 - 0 

Phemie’s Temptation 1 50 

The Empty Heart 150 

From My Youth Up 1 ijf; 

Helen Gardner 1 

Husbands and Homes 15® 

Jessamine 1 50 

True as Steel. 50 


4 


G. W. DILLINGHAM CO.'S. 'PUBLICATIONS, 


Albert Ross' Novels. 


New Clot ' Bound Editions. 

** There is a great difference between the productions of Albert Ross and those of 
SOOe of the sensational writers of recent date. When he depicts vice he does it with an 
artistic touch, but he never makes it attractive. Mr. Ross’ dramatic instincts are strong. 
His characters become in his hands living, moving creatures.” 


Thou Shalt Not 

Speaking of Ellen 

Her Husband’s Friend. 
The Garston Bigamy. . . 
Thy Neighbor’s Wife. . . 

Young Miss Giddy 

Out of Wedlock. 

Young Fawcett’s Mabel 
His Foster Sister (New ) , 


$i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
$1 oo 


His Private Character 
In Stella’s Shadow. . . 
Moulding a Maiden. . 

Why I’m Single 

An Original Sinner. . 

Love at Seventy 

A Black Adonis 

Love Gone Astray. , , 


i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
i oo 
I oo 


John Esten Cooke’s Works. 

“The thrilling historic stories of John Esten Cooke must be classed among the best 
and most popular of all American writers. The great contest between the States was the 
theme he chose for his Historic Romances. Following until the close of the war the for- 
tunes of Stuart, Ashby, Jackson, and Lee, he returned to “ Eagle’s Nest,” his old home, 
where, in the quiet of peace, he wrote volume after volume, intense in dramatic interest.” 


Surry of Eagle’s Nest 

Fairfax 

Hilt to Hilt 

Beatrice Hallam 

Leather and Silk.... 

Miss Bonnybel 

Out of the Foam. . . . 


$i 5o 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 


Hammer and Rapier 

Mohun 

Captain Ralph 

Col. Ross of Piedmont 

Robert E„ Lee 

Stonewall Jackson 

Her Majesty the Queen 


A. S. Roe’s Novels. 


$1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50' 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 


There is no writer of the present day who excels A. S. Roe, in his particular line of 
fiction. He is distinguished by his fidelity to nature, his freedom from affectation, his 
sympathy with the interests of everyday existence and his depth and sincerity of feeling. 
His stories appeal to the heart and strengthen and refresh it.” 


True to the Last 

A Long Look Ahead 

I tie Star and the Cloud 

i’ve Been Thinking 

How Could He Help It 

and Unlike 


ii 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 
1 50 


To Love and To Be Loved. .$1 50 


Time and Tide 1 50 

Woman Our Angel 1 50 

Looking Around 1 50 


The Cloud on the Heart... 1 50 
Resolution .... v , j k> 


G. W. DILLINGHAM CO.'S. PUBLICATIONS. 


5 


Bertha Clay $ Novels. 


“Bertha Clay is one of the mo6t popular writers of fiction. Her romances are truly 
wonderful creations. They win the admiration of the masses and will continue to increase 
in popularity.” 


Thrown on the World. ... ..$i 50 

A Bitter Atonement 1 50 

Love Works Wonders 1 50 

Evelyn’s Folly 150 

The Earl’s Atonement 1 50 

Repented at Leisure 1 50 


A Struggle for a Ring $1 50 

Lady Darner’s Secret 1 50 , 

Between Two Loves 1 50 • 

Put Asunder 1 50 

A Woman’s Temptation.. . . 1 50 


Georgia Sheldon’s Novels. 

“ These stories have charmed thousands of readers, and they hold a place, so far as 
popularity goes, in the very front rank of American fiction.” 


Brownie’s Triumph $1 50 

The Forsaken Bride 1 50 

Earl Wayne's Nobility 1 50 


Lost — a Pearle $1 50 

Stella Rosevelt 1 50 


Celia E. Gardner’s Novels. 

** Miss Gardner's works are becoming more and more popular every year, and they 
popular long after many of our present favorite writers are forgotten.* 


will continue to be 

Stolen Waters 
Broken Dreams 
Compensation 
A Twisted Skein 


verse) . , 

. .$i 

5o 

do 

. . 1 

5o 

do .. 

.. 1 

50 

do .. 

, . 1 

5o 



50 


Rich Medway $1 50 

A Woman's Wiles 150 

Terrace Roses 1 5® 

Seraph — or Mortal? 1 50 

Won under Protest (New), i 50 


Captain Mayne Reid’s Works. 

“ Captain Mayne Reid’s works are of an intensely interesting and fascinating character. 
Nearly all of them being founded upon some historical event, they possess a permanent 
value while presenting a thrilling, earnest, dashing fiction surpassed by no novel of tha 
day.” 


The Scalp Hunters $1 50 

The Rifle Rangers 1 50 

The War Trail 1 50 

The Wood Rangers 1 50 

The Wild Huntress 15° 

The Maroon 1 50 

The Headless Horseman 1 50 


The White Chief $1 50 

The Tiger Hunter * 5 ° 

The Hunter’s Feast 1 50 

Wild Life 1 50 

Osceola, the Seminole 1 50 * 

The Quadroon 1 50 

The White Gauntlet 1 50 ! 


The Rangers and Regulators * 5oLos| Lenore„M, f . t 1 jsqf 

• .. .. - - jf * • - 1 * j 


6 


G. W. DILLINGHAM CO.'S. PUBLICATIONS . 


“Brick” Pomeroy’s Works. 


“ The versatility of genius exhibited by this author has won for him a world-wide 
reputation as a facetious and a strong writer. One moment replete with the most touch* 
ing pathos, and the next full of fun, frolic, and sarcasm.” 


Sense— A serious book 

Gold Dust 

Our Saturday Nights, . 


i 50 
1 50 
1 50 


Nonsense— A comic book..$i 50 


Brick Dust do * , 1 ;,o 
Home Harmonies 1 50 


Allan Pinkerton’s Works. 

‘ The mental characteristics of Allan Pinkerton were judgment as to facts, knowledge 
of men, the ability to concentrate his faculties on one subject, and the persistent power of 
will. A mysterious problem of crime, against which his life was devoted, presented to 
his thought, was solved almost in an instant, and seemingly by his intuitions. With half- 
closed eyes he saw the scene in which the wrong was done, read every movement of the 
criminals, and reached invariably the correct conclusion as to their conduct and guilt.” 


Expressmen and Detectives. $1 50] Spiritualists and Detectives. $1 50 

Mollie Maguires, The 1 50 Model Town and Detectives. I 50 

Somnambulist, The 1 50 Strikers, Communists, etc. . . 1 50 

Claude Melnotte 1 50 Mississippi Outlaws, etc. ... 1 50 

Criminal Rem iniscenses 1 50 Buchholz and Detectives... I 50 

Railroad Forger, The 1 50 Burglar’s Fate 1 50 

Bank Robbers 1 50 Professional Thieves, etc. . . 150 

A Double Life 1 50 Spy of the Rebellion (8vo). . 3 50 

Gypsies and Detectives I 50 Thirty Years a Detective. . . 1 50 


Mansfield Tracy Walworth’s Novels. 

“Mr. Walworth’s novels are brilliant, scholarly and absorbing and reveal great power 
in the portraiture of character.” 


Warwick. 

Hotspur. 

Lulu 

Stormcliff. 


I 50 
1 50 

1 5o 
1 50! 


Delaplaine 
Beverly. . . 
Zahara . . . . 


$1 50 
1 50 
. 1 50 


Ernest Renan’s and other Theological Works. 


“ There is through all the works of Renan a pathos that stirs the mind to its i .most 
depths, his power of diction is wondrous sweet and strong, his ardent adoration of 
something indefinite, dreamy, ideal, takes our hearts and our senses captive.” 


The Life of Jesus $1 75 

Lives of the Apostles 175 

The Life of St. Paul 175 

Bible in India — Jacolliot. . , 3 op 


The Unknown Life of : 

Christ — By Notovitch. . . . $1 50 
Inside the Church of Rome — 

By the Nun of Kenm^rc;, 1 7^ 




. HOLMES’ 

Over THREE MILLION Sold. 

“ Mrs. Holmes’ stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. She 13 
in many reSpects'withoui a rival m the world of fiction. Her' characters are always life* 
iike, and she makes (hem tajk and act like human beings, subject to the same emotions, 
swayed by the same passions, and actual ed by the same motives which are common among 
men and women of everyday existence.” * 

Tempest and Sunshine. 

English Orphans. 

H omestead on the Hillside. 

Meadow Brook. 

Christmas Stories. 

Cameron Pnde. 

Darkness and Daylight. 

Hugh Worthington. 

Poorest kiouse. . j 

Dr. Hathorn’s Daughters. 

AUCUSTA J. EVANS’ 

MAGNIFICENT NOVELS. 

Whp has not read with rare delight the novels of Augusta Evans?, Her strange, 
wonderful, and fascinating style; the profound depths to which she sinks the probe into 
huqian nature, touching its most sacred chords and springs; i he inteii-e interest thrown 
around her characters, and the very marked peculiarities ot hm principal figures, conspire 
to give an unusual interest to the woiks of this eminent Southern authoress ” 

Macaria, $1.75 Beulah, $1 75 St. Elirro, $2.00 Vashti, $2.00 

Inez, $175 lnfelice, $.000 At the Mei cy of Tiberius, $2 00 (New). 

MARION HARLAND’S 

SPLENDID NOVELS. 

“ Marion Harland understandsthe art of constructing aplot which will gain the atten- 
tion of the reader at the beginning, and keep up the interest to the last page.’' 

Alorre. Miriam. Phemie’s Temptation. Helen Gardner. 

Hidden Path. Sunny Bank. My Little Love. Husbands and Homes, 

Moss Side. - Kiijiy’s Husband.. The Empty Heart. Jessamine. 

Nemesis. At Last. F/om My Youih Up. True as Steel. 

• Price $050 per Vol. 

MAY AGNES FLEMING’S 

POPULAR NOVELS. 

U Mrs. Fleming's sto-ios are growing more and more popular every day. Their life- 
like conversations, flashes : ,of wit, constantly varying scenes, and deeply interesting plots 
combine to place their author in the very first rank of Modern Novelists. 

A Wonderful Woman. A Changed Heart. Kate Dan ton. Pride and Passion. 
One Night’s Mystery. Silent and True. A Terrible Secret. A Wronged Wjle. 

Guy Karlscourt’s Wife. -Sharing Her Crime. Carried by Sten in. A Wife’s Tiagedy. 
The Actress’ Daughter. Maude Percy’s Secret. Heir of Charlton, host fora Woman. 
The Queen of the Isle. The Midnight Quern. A Mad Marriage. Norine’s Revenge. 
Edith P^rcival. Wedded for Pique’. A Fateful Abduction {New). 

Price 0f-5o per Vol.' 


All the books on this list are handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold 
everywhere, and by mail, postage free, cn receipt of price by 

G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

33 West 23d Street, New York. 


Chateau D'Or. Millbanki 

Queen ie Herherton. Edna Browning. 

. Bessie’s Fortune. West Lawn. 

’Lena Rivers. ~ x Dora Deane. 

Rose Mather. Edith Lyle. 

Cousin Maude. • Gretchen. 

Marian Grey. Daisy Thornton. 

Ethelyn’s Mistake. Mildred. 

Madeline. Marguerite. 

Mrs. H allam’s Companion. Paul Ralston (New). 
Price $1.50 per Vol. 


NOVELS 


MRS. MARY J 


JULIE P. SMITH’S NOVELS. 

'h'" Is by this author are of unusual merit, u'icommonly v well written, r.l-vor, 
d by great wit and vivacity. They are growing popular and more popuiai 


and cha 
every day 

Widow G ddsmbh’s Daughter. 
Courting and Farming. 

Kiss and be Friends. 


Chris and O.ho. 

The Married Belle, 

His Yoturg V\ ife. 

Price ft. 50 per Vol. 


Ten Old Maids. 
'.Blossom Bud. 


The Widower. 

Lucy. 


An Original Sinner. 
Out of Wedlock. 
Love Gone A yyay. 
His Foster Sisle. . 


ALBERT ROSS’ NOVELS. 

New Cloth Bound Editions . 

“ There is a great difference betweei\ the productions of Albert Ross and those of 
some of the sensational writers of retfeht da-. When he depicts vice he does it wit h an 
artistic touch, but he never makes it attractive. Mr. Ross-' dramatic instincts ate strong. 
His characters become in his hands living, moving creatines. ” 

Thy Neighbor’s Wile. Young Miss Giddy. Why I’m Single. 

Her H usband’s Fnend. Speaking of E'tcn. l.ove'ar Seventy. 

The Garston Bigamv. Moulding a Maiden. Thou Shalt Not. 

His Private Character. In Stella's Shadow. A Black Adonis. 

Young b awceu’s Mabel. Their Marriag • Bond. (New). 

Price ft. 00 per Vol. — 

JOHN ESTEN COOKE’S WORKS. 

The thrilling h istoric stories of John F.sten Cooke must be classed among the best 
and most popular of all American writers. The great content between the Slates was the 
theme he eho*e for his HLtoric Romances. Following until the close of the war the for- 
tunes of Stua< t, A-hby, Jackson. and Lee, he returned to” Eagle’s Nest.” his old horn-, 
where, in the quiet of peace, he wrote volume after volume, intense in dramatic interest.” 

Surry of F.agle’s Nest. Fai-fax, HilttoHilQ Beatrice Hallam. 

Leather and Silk;. Miss Bonnybel. Out of the Foam Mohttn. 

Hammer and Rapier. Capfin Ralph. Stonewcll Jackson. Robert E. Lee. 

Col. Ro-s oi I’lcUmout. Her Ma jest y t he Queen. 

Price f 1.50 per Vol. 

CELIA E. GARDNER’S NOVELS. 

“ Miss Gardner’s works are becoming more *n<l more popular every year, and they 
will continue to be p ipular loiig after mu..y uf'our present favoitio writers are forgotten.’’ 


Stolen Wa’ers. (In verse). 
lLoken Dreams. 'Do. 

Compensation. Do. 

A Twisted Skein. Do. 
Tested. 


Rich Medway. 

- A Woman’s Wiles. 

Tetrace Roses. 

Siraph — or Mortal ? 

Won Under Protest. (New). 
Price $1,50 per Vol. 


CAPTAIN MAYNE REID’S WORKS. 

“ Captain Mayne Reid’s works are of an intensely interesting and fascinating character. 
Nearly all of them being founded ipon some historical even' , 1 h--y possess A pet mahent 
Value while presenting a thrilling, earnest, dashing fid t ion surpassed by no novel ot ttie day ” 


The Scalp Hunters. 
The War Trail. 

The Maroon. 

The Tiger Hunter. 
Osceola, the Seminole, 
Lost Lenore. 


The-Rifle Rangers. 

'I he Wood Rangers. 

The Rangers and Regulators. 
'iTe Muntet’s beast. 

The Quadroon. * 

Price $ i .50 per Vol. 


The Headlesr. Horseman 
'I he M lid Huntress. 

1 he White Chief. 

Wild l ife. 

Tire White Gauntlet. 


All the books on this list are handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold 
everywhere, and by mail, postage free, cn receipt cf price by 

G. W. Dillingham Co.,' Publishers, 

33 West 23^ Street, New York. 


/ 


MAGNIFICENT NOVELS. 

INEZ, . . . • : • SI. 75 

MACARIA, .1.75 

BEULAH, . .1.76 

VASHTI, . . . . 2.00 

INFELICE 2.00 

AT THE MERCY OF TIBERIUS, 2.00 

ST. ELMO, . . . . 2.00 

ST. ELMO, Magnolia Edition , 2 vots. %vo., M agn ifleently 
Illustrated vrttk 30 Photogravure and 'Half -tone Engravings^ 
Per set, ' . > • . $ 6.00 


A Prominent Critic says of these Novels. 

“ The author’s style;- is beautiful, chaste, and elegant. 
Her ideals are clothed in the' most fascinating imagery, and 
her power, of delineating character truly. remarkable. One 
of the marked and striking characteristics of each and all 
her works is the purity of sentiment which pervades every 
line, every page, and every chapter.*' 


All handsomely printed and bound in icloth, sol ft everywhere , 
and §ent by mail, postage free, on receipt of price ;ly 




G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

33 West 23d Street, New York. V 















• • 














\ 



* 





























































* 








I 













































4 













« 





















































* 




* 


* 




r 













































































p • * 

' 

. 





















































- 







* 










- 










